Flowers for Gregory
by gorblimey2
Summary: House is back in rehab causing more havoc among the inmates. He meets a woman being treated by a sx addict therapist. Is this a match made in heaven? Hardly! Explicit humor, angst.
1. Chapter 1

**FLOWERS FOR GREGORY**

**©2010 Kim Brogan**

**Chapter 1**

House was using the toothpick to un-wedge a piece of popcorn from between his front teeth. He cursed when the toothpick broke off and now both were firmly wedged in the gap. He grabbed his cane and walked into the industrial looking bathroom with the handicap fixtures and found his floss, pulled off a string and managed to dislodge the foreign objects. It was still hours away from dinner and, since they didn't allow television in the patient's rooms, he decided to wander out to the patient's lounge to see what was on the communal television.

He walked past the sullen woman carrying a vase of mixed spring flowers. She bumped him, murmured an apology and kept going. House turned to watch her. She was in sweats, as were half the patients, and her feet were covered in moccasins made from elk. They were a golden color and couldn't be more than a size six. She wasn't skinny. She wasn't fat. She was somber.

Everyone seemed to be somber in here, except for the bi-polar manics that sometimes wreaked havoc on the staff until they were sedated. On his third day as a patient, House had ventured out to the lounge in the hopes that he could convince the inmates (as he referred to them) to let him watch the Victoria Secret Catwalk show. Arriving in the lounge, he had just taken one of the easy chairs and was about to ask Jason, the forty year old accountant from Buck's County, to let him have the remote, when Raynauldo Munoz burst through the door. Raynaldo had the look of a new patient. His eyes were still bright and frenzied and he wore Dickies, a short sleeved plaid shirt and dark shiny boots. He hadn't graduated to sweats yet.

Raynauldo went from patient to patient pointing first to the roof, then to a chair a few seats over from House and then a corner in the room. There were frenzied words that House couldn't make out. Whatever he was saying, it had the effect of creating great anxiety in the paranoid schizophrenics who hastened into the corner Raynaldo had pointed at.

Finally getting to House, Raynauldo looked into House's eyes and bent down. "The microwaves have been installed on the roofs. You're not safe. Anyone sitting in these chairs will be pulverized. You need to go over there." He pointed to the huddle of paranoid patients, all anxious, mumbling and trying hard to attach themselves to the side of the walls in the corner.

"Why that corner?" House asked, a slight smile slipping across his mouth.

"Lead. It's lined with lead. The microwaves can't penetrate."

"Ah!" House said, nodding. He looked deep into the dark brown eyes of the manic bi-polar Hispanic. "Don't worry, they don't like doctors. I'm a doctor."

Raynauldo vigorously shook his head, "No! You must get to safety."

House patted the man's arm. "You take care of everyone else. Look, you see Jason there? He has the shield remote. If you let me have it. I'll sit here and monitor it, make sure that the lead shield doesn't go down."

Within seconds, a minor scuffle took place between Raynauldo and Jason and soon House was handed the remote while Jason was hustled into the protected corner. House chuckled and changed the station to the Victoria Secret fashion show. For half an hour he sat in the middle of the room by himself, feet up, eating popcorn from the machine in the corner, while the manic bi-polar Raynaldo continued to herd his paranoid schizophrenics into an area no wider than eight by eight.

When the show was done. House held the remote tightly in his hand and started to writhe as if the devil had managed to take over his body. He wrestled with the remote as if it had a mind of its own. "My God, my God. I can't control the shield! It's going to---" House screamed out in mock pain and flung himself to the floor in what appeared to be a fit. "The microwaves….they're loose! The shield's down, run!"

There was a cry from the corner and a half-dozen paranoid schizophrenics screamed and started running through the corridors trying to find safety, screaming about the microwave shield being down.

House rolled into a ball of laughter as he watched the orderlies chase down the patients. Still laughing, House saw a shoe in front of his face and followed it up to the very annoyed face of Ted, the very sturdy and formidable figure of a twenty-something man who wasn't happy with him. House shrugged his shoulders and followed Ted back to House's room where he was locked inside. The staff spent the next half-hour rounding the paranoid patients up and sedating them. House was banned from the lounge for twenty-four hours as punishment.

It was now his fifth day and, sitting in the upholstered chair facing the television, House tried unsuccessfully to wrestle the remote control from Lydia, the obese OCD hoarder. But it was no use, her favorite soap opera, _Days of Our Lives_ was on and she was a talented hoarder, knowing exactly where to hide the damn thing so that House wouldn't dare dive for it. Once again House was going to miss _Prescription Passion_, which pissed him off. House went to the orderly and offered substantial money if he would let him watch the television in the orderly's lounge.

When the orderly declined, House screamed, "What's wrong with you guys? Have you no respect for the meaning of a bribe?"

"Sorry Dr. House, but the cameras are reviewed on a daily basis by Dr. Molker or Dr. Tarrington. They ask questions. If we don't have the right answers, we're fired. Your bribe isn't worth it."

House said nothing, but hobbled off with an attitude. He looked outside and saw that it was raining—again. Looking closer, he saw that the woman with flowers was outside sitting on the short wall, her face up to the sky, mouth open to catch the rain.

_She belongs in a loony bin. Oh, yeah, she is. She's pretty. Older than my pretty little group therapy coed, but still very pretty. How old? Thirty-five? Considering that she's out in the rain and her voice was flat when she bumped into me, I'd say, chronic depression. I don't need that. I'm depressed enough without adding depressive people around me. Still, it might be fun to yank her chain a little, see how she reacts. _

House waited for the woman to come back in, which, after an orderly discovered her outside, didn't take long. He whisked her inside with just a few words, "Molly, you know better. Christ, now look at me, I'm drenched too. You better go change. If Dr. Christy sees you, she'll come up with some new medication and your ass will be dragging."

The woman shook her head like a dog does when it's wet. The water flung out from her head in a circle, hitting House and several other patients. A cry of disapproval went up and she sheepishly apologized as she walked towards the patient rooms. House followed, but far enough back that she didn't hear him. He saw which room she was in and then went back out and looked for an orderly.

"Hey, Ted." House motioned for the young black orderly to join him.

After rolling his eyes, Ted walked over to House, who had proven to be quite a nuisance since arriving. "Yes, Dr. House?"

"Ted, Dr. Christy, what's her specialty?"

Ted shrugged, "I'm new, but I know Christy does two group sessions for sex addiction."

House yanked his fist down in victory. After a few seconds of thought, he grabbed Ted by the sleeve. "Ted, have you got a condom in your wallet?"

Ted snorted. Shaking his head he walked off.

************

At dinner time, House went through the cafeteria line decorated on top of the window protection with plastic plants that looked plastic. _Jesus, they couldn't even get silk phony plants?_ He looked for Molly, finding her sitting with two other patients, one male, one female at a table with four chairs.

"Mind if I sit here?" House pointed to the open chair.

They were all clearly shocked that a stranger wanted to sit down, but being polite, all three of them nodded. House sat down and smiled at each of them. Plopping a fry into his mouth he looked up and stared at Molly. Once he had swallowed he reached over to shake her hand.

"I'm Greg."

House shook everyone's hands. "Well. What did you do to land yourself in a loony bin?"

Everyone's mouth dropped as House gave them all a huge grin.

Molly frowned, "Greg, I'm not comfortable sharing that with someone who's just been admitted."

"I'm not new. I've been here for a five days and I'm already on my fourth step, make close friends and hug them—tight. Real tight."

"Well, I haven't noticed you before." Molly said while pushing her peas into her mashed potatoes.

"That's because you hole up in your room all the time." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, "What are you doing in there?"

Molly wrinkled her nose and stood up, busing her tray and then leaving the dining room. House watched until she was gone and then looked at the other two, "What's her problem?"

Shaking their heads, they both stood up and bused their trays too. House watched and chuckled to himself. This was fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Flowers for Gregory**

**Chapter 2**

Knocking on her door, House heard her ask, "Who is it?"

"Greg."

"I'm tired."

"I'm …" He was going to say _horny_, but decided that he needed her to open the door if he was going to make any headway. Instead he told her in the saddest voice he could muster, "I'm really down. I know I was a jerk at dinner and it has me feeling really…well, I just don't think I can face myself if I don't get your forgiveness."

"Fine. You're forgiven. Now please leave me alone." She said through the door.

"I need to see that you're serious about forgiving me and not just saying it so that I'll stop eating dinner with you."

There was a pause and then he heard her footsteps. She opened the door and, while hugging the door, looked out. "Okay, here I am. Apologize."

He whipped out a pink rose and handed it to her. Very softly he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such an ass. That's why I'm here. I tend to grate on people's nerves."

She shook her head, "It sounds like you are fairly self-enlightened already. I'm sure you'll soon be up to step five—_leave people alone."_

He smiled at the slur as he tried to get a look over her head into her bedroom. She had definitely been here longer than him, the room had a lived in look.

She inhaled deeply and frowned. "Greg, is there something else you want?"

He quickly looked back down at her, "Uh, yeah. I was wondering if you'd like to sit with me at the movies tonight?"

Shaking her head, Molly gave him a weary smile. "I'm not going to the movies tonight."

"Tomorrow?"

She thought long and hard. "What's the movie tomorrow?"

"Little Miss Sunshine."

Molly laughed to herself and took a good look at the loser in front of her. Unlike most of the patients, at least he seemed to have a personality. They hadn't dosed him enough for him to be on autopilot. Nonetheless, she knew his type, they were used to getting their own way and the quickest way to get rid of them was to show them just how boring you could be. "Sure, that was a good movie. I'll sit with you."

House nodded, smiled, turned and walked down the hall wondering how he could get hold of a condom somewhere in the building. _Wallets, someone has to have one in a wallet…maybe a purse! But, I'll have to get into a locker or two or three. Bribing's still a better idea. I just have to find someone who can be bribed. Well, let's start with the janitor._

The unsuspecting janitor was mopping the hall when House saddled up next to him. He was well into his forties, but House was hoping that he was still a 'player'. "Hey, um. I was wondering if you had a rubber I could buy off you?"

The man straightened up and leaned on the mop handle. "Sorry, but we're not allowed to bring in rubbers. We had a guy who came in, passed a rubber full of drugs, took a few, got another rubber and kept swallowing the drugs over and over so he wouldn't get caught. They came down hard on rubbers after that."

"I want to have sex, not do drugs."

The janitor shrugged and went back to work.

"Christ, I need a condom!" He yelled as he went down the hall.

House spent his entire night trying to bribe and employee to bring him in a condom. Finally he called Wilson from the pay phone in the foyer.

"How's it going?" Wilson asked.

"It's always more fun the second time around. Since the pain triggered my relapse, they want me to undergoTrigger Point Injections."

"That's what we thought. You know, you've never tried it. How are you feeling now that the Vicodin is out of your system?"

"They put me on oxy and they're going to wean me off of it on Monday and start the trigger point injections."

"Did they go into detail about how it works?"

House laid down on the bed, "Just that it's used to treat painful areas of muscle that contain trigger points, or knots of muscle that form when muscles do not relax."

"Sounds like you."

"Yeah. I'm not looking forward to it. They have this 800 lb gorilla of a nurse that's going to be giving me the injections."

"Small needle I hope."

"Yeah, it's going to contain a local anesthetic and a steroid. The injection is supposed to make the trigger point inactive, relieving the pain. They assure me that a brief course of treatment will result in sustained relief, but I think they're blowing smoke up my ass."

"Any treatment after that?"

He nodded into the phone. "Muscle relaxants whenever the trigger points start to hurt. Then more trigger point injections. But I should go weeks without pain…or that's the fairy tale their selling."

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Yeah. A rubber."

Wilson paused. "A what?"

"A rubber."

"You mean a condom?"

"Yeah, French letter, overcoat, Trojans..._condoms!"_

Wilson started laughing, "You're getting tail in rehab?"

"Sex addict."

"You're screwing a sex addict?"

"Not yet. But, if I don't get a condom soon, I'm going to take my chances and go commando…get my shots later."

"A sex addict's had hundred, maybe thousands of partners. You can't do that!"

"You want me to pass up sex with someone with that kind of experience?"

"House, don't be an idiot."

"She doesn't have HIV."

"And how do you know?"

I saw her meds…no anti-virals. Just anti-depressants and anxiety medication."

"But, she might be in that window."

"I don't think so. She's been here quite awhile."

"You never cease to surprise me. I'm afraid they told me that I can't visit you until a week from tomorrow."

"I'm doomed."

Wilson laughed. "Goodbye House."

"Goodbye Wilson."

Molly sat in Dr. Christy's office with the box of Kleenex in her lap. They had reached a pivotal point in her therapy and she hadn't been able to get through the sessions without crying her eyes out. She gave the doctor a weak smile to indicate her willingness to start the session.

"Molly are you sure you have the strength? Yesterday we managed to get up to the night of the abduction and subsequent rape. Today's session will cover it. I don't want you to talk about it unless you feel comfortable doing it?"

"I've been in here for four months. I think I'm finally ready."

She sat back in her chair and nodded. "You've made good progress; we just have to get through this."

"How long do you think it will take?"

The doctor shook her salt and pepper hair and pursed her lips. "I don't know. At the rate you're going, I don't see you staying in here much longer. How are the physical wounds?"

Molly lifted her t-shirt and showed her the scars. They're going to do some cosmetic surgery on the one here." She pointed to one that was on the right side of her left breast. "He says that it will show above a bathing suit. The other one he said we would wait and see how it looks in another year. I've been given ointments and, for the most part, they're working."

"Have you made arrangements for when you get out?" She asked as she leaned forward on her elbows.

"I have disability and social security right now. I have my savings and investments. I'm not going to starve. But, I don't know if I'm going to be able to go back to work, dealing with the public again."

"What did the Chief say?"

"I can come back when I'm ready. He knows that I might file for permanent disability."

Christy nodded, "I'd certainly being willing to sign something saying that you can't go back to what you were doing. Any word on whether they caught the guy?"

Molly shrugged.

"Molly, when we left are session on Monday, you had just begun to follow up on a lead. Let's start there."

"The fourth victim's car had OnStar* in their car. The records revealed that when the victim was driven from the point of kidnapping to where the body was dumped-- Wow, I just realized how impersonal it sounded '_the _body was dumped', I meant, Rickie's body was dumped—that the driver detoured to an area near the outskirts of Trenton. I decided to canvas the area to determine whether or not anyone had noted—"

"Stop there. You sound like you're making a report to your captain."

Molly took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, I zoned out of myself."

"Tell me what was going on inside of you."

There was a strained silence. Molly was staring out the window at the first signs of spring. Tiny green buds were pushing up from the branches of the bushes and trees. She remembered her first day in the institute; it had been the first real snowfall of the season, just after Christmas.

Molly took a deep breath, wishing she was back in Montana, fishing on the Gallatin with her father. Actually, she wished she was anywhere but here.

"The night was dark. There was no moon and the area turned out to be more of a warehouse area that residential like we had originally thought. The houses began in the next block. The warehouses were dark, with broken windows. The only light came from two streetlamps, one a block away and the other almost smack dab in the middle of the warehouse area. It wasn't much, so I grabbed my flashlight from the trunk, one of those industrial types and started walking around. I wasn't comfortable so I called my partner, told him it wasn't residential and that I needed him to join me if he could. He said he was thirty minutes out and recommended I wait in the car. I had already decided to wait in the car. I hung up, turned and ran right into him and…" Molly's breath caught as she remembered literally turning and slamming into his body. The stench was like her garbage when it hadn't been taken out for a week. The muscles on his chest and body were solid and tense. Taking a deep breath Molly sat for a few seconds before continuing.

"He had on a ski mask and towered over me. I reached for my gun, but he gave me a right hook that sent me down to the pavement, my head hitting the sidewalk. I woke up in a fog, nude, blood running down my leg." Molly stopped again, trying to separate her feelings from the facts, but she couldn't. She felt the fear creeping into her arms and up to her shoulders, down to her heart which started to race. Closing her eyes she began again, "It was raining. I was on a work table of sorts, splayed open, my legs in irons and chains attached approximately four feet apart. My arms were tied by rope over my head. There was a tiny window in the tiny room through which sunlight tried to illuminate the room which was approximately 8 X 10 with concrete masonry walls. I had the feeling like I was in a storage room of a warehouse. The concrete walls were painted with a deep gray and there was an overhead light that wasn't turned on. On the wall were machetes and knives and a pole that had blood on it. The pain coming from my vagina was overwhelming causing me to throw up on myself. I couldn't take the nausea and smell of blood, I finally passed out. When I came to, he was on top of me, grunting and thrusting. When he saw I was awake, he slapped and hit me several times over and over and over until I finally passed out again."

Molly started crying again as she pulled several tissues from the box and dabbed her eyes and nose. "The worst was at night. I would lay there in the darkness listening to things scurry around, screaming when they scurried over me. I was scared that he would come back in the night, it seemed worse at night. He did. I was allowed water and food only after he did what he was going to do. Sometimes he would rape me; sometimes he would poke things up me until I bled. I'd scream until I passed out. He always wore a mask. He never said a word. After several weeks, maybe a month, I'm not sure, he put a black bag over my head, tied it around my neck. I was sure that he was going to strangle me, but he didn't.

He whispered, "I followed you for days. How did you find out about my nest?"

I said nothing.

"It doesn't matter. It will be gone by the time they find you."

"Just kill me. Get it over with."

"Kill you? No. I want them to know what happens between the time I take my ladies and they find them. I want them to know." Molly shivered. "He drugged and dumped me miles away in a dirt lot surrounded by broken glass. I was still nude, hog tied with the wound in my breast and abdomen. In the morning I became aware of children throwing rocks at me and kicking me. I think they thought I was dead. I managed to say something and they ran like roaches from a light. A few minutes later there was a woman's voice and a blanket put over me. She undid my hood and I asked her to cut the ropes but to leave the knots, because they might be evidence or a signature. The police came and I was taken to the hospital where I had a breakdown. After my surgeries, I was brought here. They didn't know what else to do with me. I was a mess."

Molly finally looked up and could see the disgust and horror in the doctor's face. She was having as hard a time listening as Molly was telling her what had happened. Molly suddenly felt exhausted, like every ounce of energy had been rung out of her.

"Molly?" Dr. Christy's voice was anxious, "Molly, are you okay? You seem to have collapsed midstream."

Molly nodded. "I can't believe how much energy it took just to talk about it. I feel like I've just climbed a tall mountain."

Christy smiled. "You spend a lot of energy holding it back. Now that you've let it go, you're going to find that it will be a rollercoaster. One day you'll sleep like a baby, the next you'll be haunted by dreams. This isn't a smooth road from here on out. But, it's a huge step towards getting your life back. You know that, don't you?"

Molly didn't know anything except that she wanted to sleep. "Sure. I understand. Dr. Christy, I'm wiped out; can we continue Friday?"

Christy gave her a motherly smile, "Yes. Get some rest and if you need something to sleep, just let the nurses know. I'll prescribe some sleeping medication."

Molly wasn't even sure how she found her way across the courtyard form Dr. Christy's office to her room. She was unable to focus on anything yet somehow she had managed to find her way to her room. Sleeping for a good part of the afternoon, when she woke, Molly discovered that it was dark outside. She realized that she had missed dinner. Getting up, she went into the bathroom and washed up.

While brushing her teeth she thought she heard a sound in her room. Walking out, she realized that someone was knocking on her door. "Who's there?"

"Greg."

Molly sighed and did a mental roll of the eyes. "Oh, Greg. I'm sorry but I've had a really bad day, I think I'm going to stay in tonight."

"I have something for you." He said through the door.

Molly's lip curled up, _Great, I just bet you do. _Opening the door he stood there in a t-shirt, lounging pants and Nikes holding a plate of food.

He motioned to the plate, "Tuna sandwich, potato salad and celery with peanut butter." Reaching into his pocket he wiggled his eyebrows. "And the pise de resistance. Voila!" He pulled out a can of diet coke as if it were a rabbit from a hat.

She grinned. "How did you know I like tuna and that I drink diet coke?"

He sat down in the easy chair that sat catty-corner to the bed. Looking around he saw books in two piles, mail on top of her desk, two photos, one of a man and Molly standing in a river fly fishing, the other a photo of a woman and a little girl.

"I'm observant." He said nonchalantly.

Molly sat down and put the plate on the desk next to her bed while she crawled up next to the headboard and began to eat the sandwich. Still chewing she tried to get out, "hank ou."

"You're welcome." He motioned to the photo. "You fish?"

Nodding, she smiled. "My Dad and I used to go every May up to the Gallatin in Montana and fly fish."

"Any good?"

"Okay, not great." Before taking another bite, she asked, "Do you fish?"

"I have fished, but not in a long time. Not in a _very _long time."

"My Dad died last year." She said solemnly. Looking at him, she thought he was handsome, but his face was etched with so much personality that it was hard to know who he was just from his looks.

He offered a curt, "Sorry about your Dad. Who are the other two?"

"My sister and niece. They live in Germany, my brother-in-law is in the Army."


	3. Chapter 3

**I downloaded this yesterday and forgot to post it up on the board! I'll post another chapter too later. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review if you're enjoying this.**

**Chapter 3**

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the movies?" House asked.

"I had a really rough time in therapy today. I think it went too well. Things came out that needed to be talked about."

He stuck his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. "I think know why you're here and I know it's hard for you. If you need someone to talk to, I'm probably not your best choice, but I guarantee I'll be blunt with you. And, I'll probably piss you off or try to manipulate you into doing my bidding, but I will listen."

She started laughing. It wasn't exactly the pat answer she was expecting. He was frank and that was okay with her. The guys at the precinct didn't pull any punches with her and she liked that. Her dad, a twenty-five year veteran on the force, had been brutally honest with her while growing up. It had made her tough enough to climb ahead at work. She made her way up the ladder to homicide detective and had just been given notice she was going to be promoted to Lieutenant when she had been abducted.

"Greg, are you always this blunt?"

"Molly. About as blunt as a rubber mallet."

She giggled. "You have the look of a man in pain. Your leg suggests it's physical, but your manner suggests you're a tortured soul, Greg. Your light perspiration and your stint in here indicates that you probably self-medicated yourself for both your leg and your soul. Where'd you get the drugs? The streets? Your doctor? Family?"

House lost the cocky grin and stared at her hands. They were small, freckled, childlike. They should belong to an angel. "I'm a doctor and I know doctors."

"Oxy or Vicodin?"

"Vicodin."

"How's your liver?"

"Hangin' in there."

She nodded. "What happened? What pushed you over the edge into here?"

"The first time was hallucinations, this time it was a motorcycle accident, hurt my leg and ended up on Vicodin."

"Whoa. How long have you been off?"

"I did a quick detox and it's been out of my system for three days."

"How's your leg?"

"I start my new pain treatment tomorrow."

"What are you on now?" Molly asked while starting on the potato salad.

"Oxy."

Her slate blue eyes closed for a second. "Whew, from the fire into the frying pan."

"Only for a few more days. They start the new micro-injection treatment in the morning and then I wean off the Oxy the next day."

"Do you want it to work or do you want the Vicodin back?"

He rolled his eyes, "What do you think? I want both." House took a deep breath, "I want the hallucinations to go away, the pain to go away, and the beautiful women to start knocking on my door."

Molly snorted with laughter, "You don't want much."

House grinned and then leaned forward with a sober look, "What do you want?"

She was tired, she was emotionally raw, she was feeling comfortable, she was vulnerable and her guard was down. She told him the truth. "I want to get to a point that when a man touches me, there are no demons and it doesn't carry any baggage."

House nodded. _So it is sexual addiction. I hope she's not cured before I make my move._

"Greg, do you play poker?" She asked.

House grinned. "Oh yeah."

"We might have a game tomorrow night."

"What are the stakes?"

"Smuggled contraband or you can bet services. Back rubs, feet rubs, room cleaning, you know whatever you can think of. Tyler used to give haircuts. He was a hairdresser, but he was let loose three weeks ago."

"How long have you been here?"

"Four months."

House was shocked, "The force is strong in you, padwan." _You must really, really need sex to make you feel good if four months of being here didn't knock it out of you. _"Have you ever thought that maybe this is as good as you're going to get?"

"All the time. I'm just hoping that's not true."

"No movie tonight."

She sighed, "Do you mind? I really am exhausted."

Shrugging House said, "Okie, dokie." He leaned forward as if he was going to get up.

Molly put out a hand, "But you don't have to leave if you want to stay and talk."

He relaxed back into the chair. "Okay. What happened today in therapy?"

She wagged a finger at him, "My doctor says that I am to stay on safe subjects and leave therapy in the doctor's office."

"Well, mine went well. I learned today that I hated my Dad, idolized my mother and learned to masturbate at an early age."

"How early?"

"Ten."

Her eyebrows shot up! "Oh my God! Ten?"

"That shocks you? I've always been a quick study."

Curious she sat Indian style on her bed and leaned towards him, "Study? As in, someone showed you how?"

"Yeah a fourteen year old and I were in his tree house with his dad's Hustlers."

"_You got it up at fourteen?"_

"Always the over-achiever."

"I'm impressed! But, you hated your Dad?"

"He died a while back. He was a fighter pilot…marine. I was his one man platoon."

She cringed, "You don't seem like the soldier type to me. I see you in a t-shirt that says, 'Doesn't play well with others'."

He grinned, "Depends on who I'm playing with and what we're playing."

"Oh…I see."

"Actually, he wasn't my Dad."

"Huh?"

"My Mom was a naughty girl, had sex with my Dad's friend."

"They told you that?"

"I figured it out when I was a kid. Did the math and came up short. DNA test proved me right."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Relieved. He was bright, but not as bright as me. Sad. I know why he never seemed to approve of me. Angry. The question is why didn't my real father step up?"

"Did he know about you?"

"I'm pretty sure he did. When I was about eight, he started showing up when my Dad was gone. He didn't come to diddle my mother; he came to play with me. There'd be some looks between them when he left, a sadness, but never any inappropriate touching."

"Sure sounds like he knew. Did you like him?"

House paused again. He hadn't meant to tell this woman so much, but being in the hospital, the clarity in his head, her willingness to listen, it was just pouring out, more than the last six days of therapy. "Oh Crap."

She tilted her head, "What? Go on."

Shaking his head forcefully, "Nah, this is boring."

"I'm not bored. Not in the least. It's nice not to have to think about my crap."

"Your crap?"

"Go on, Greg."

He smiled, "I have to remain a little mysterious or you'll get bored with me."

"Bored? With you? Why do I get the feeling that you're yanking my chain? Has anyone ever been bored with you?"

He pushed back into the chair, "There's always a first."

They talked until the night orderly stopped by and reminded them that they couldn't be alone after midnight and that House had to go back to his room. The orderly left and House gave her a pleasant smile.

"Well, the inmates must be in their rooms for lights out. I guess I'll mosey on back. I have group therapy in the morning for two hours and then at one I have private therapy. At two-thirty I have my physical therapy including my new pain treatment. I'm out at four thirty. Would you like to join me, I'm thinking of stealing a motorcycle and jumping the fence."

She giggled. "I can meet at four-thirty. I have therapy in the morning and then _art _therapy from one to two and then I'm free for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe I'll stop by physical therapy and see how you're doing."

"Probably not a good idea because I'm a real screamer."

"Oh, so am I!"

They both laughed as House gave her a wink and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He looked up and saw her head poked in the door with a big smile on her lips. Her normally blue-grey eyes were red so he knew that her therapy session must have been a doozy, but she seemed to have made a good recovery.

"Hi." She called out as he pushed his right foot against the pedal of the machine.

The sweat was pouring off of him and the Japanese-American physical therapist was giving encouraging shouts of, "Come on!" "You can do it!" and "Just a few more!" House rolled his eyes, secretly communicating that he found his therapist to be a little too zealous.

There was something sexy about the deep wet circle on his gray t-shirt, the sweat on the back of his neck and the grunting coming from his mouth as he pushed steadily against the machine.

"Are you going to stay out there?" He grumbled.

Molly made her way into the room and smiled at Greg as she watched him work out. She was surprised to see how hard he was working, his face contorting from the amount of pressure he was applying to the pedal. His therapist nodded for him to stop. Sitting up, House grabbed a towel to wipe off his face.

"Are you in pain?" Molly asked.

He gave her a curt nod. "But it's tolerable. The shots and the oxy make it tolerable."

"What's next?" She asked him.

House looked over at his therapist for instructions.

"Lunges."

House snarled, obviously not happy at the thought of doing lunges. As he walked across the room, Molly followed. Setting him up, the therapist demonstrated and then left to help another patient. Molly positioned herself next to House and began lunges with him. House turned to look at her and had to laugh, she was teetering back and forth.

"You're not very balanced are you?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep you company. This is all about you, not me."

"You're back leg is going too far to the side, go straight back." He grinned and began the lunges. Together they did ten, rested, did another ten and then were done. Turning to her, he motioned to the clock, "I think I'm done for the day."

"That's good, because I don't think my legs could take another lunge."

The physical therapist gave House instructions on some exercises to do before he went to bed and then dismissed him. Free, House and Molly walked towards the main building.

"What do you want to do now?" House asked.

"I'd suggest a walk, but I bet you're tired. You'd probably like a shower, huh?"

"If I were you, I'd like for me to take a shower…trust me."

Molly secretly thought that he had a manly smell, one that was not only tolerable, but somewhat tantalizing. She laughed and nodded. "I can wait in the patient's lounge for you."

He wrinkled his nose, "Nah, come to my room and wait. You can talk to me while I'm in the bathroom. I scored a room of my own this time. Last year I had to share with a real nutter."

Molly wasn't sure she wanted to be in his bedroom alone with him, but she figured that if she could be in her room with a man alone, maybe she could handle this too. He moved quickly through the halls with his cane. Behind him, she could see the sweat stains on his back and smell the sweat on his body. Looking down at his legs, she admired the shape and muscle tone he had, even in his right leg. Despite the pain he was experiencing, he spent a lot of time on his legs either walking or exercising.

They reached his room and House took his key from a chain around his neck and opened it, letting Molly in first. As he walked in, he took off the sweaty t-shirt and threw it on the floor in a corner. Glancing up, he saw her raise an eyebrow. Rolling his eyes, he picked the sweaty t-shirt up and took it into the bathroom.

"Make yourself at home. If you want to jump on the bed and have a pillow fight with yourself I won't tell your shrink." House yelled from the bathroom.

She looked around and quickly noticed there were no photos or personal items, only a single suitcase of clothes and a harmonica. She couldn't help but smile at the harmonica, perfect for being institutionalized. Molly sat down and continued looking around, the room started to feel tiny to her. The longer the water ran inside the shower the more nervous Molly became. Was it because she was waiting for a man? Like she waited for _him_? The shower stopped. Her heart started beating faster.

House walked out into the bedroom in just a towel wrapped around him, most of his body exposed. She jumped up, and flattened her back against the wall. He said nothing, but gave her a quizzical stare as he rummaged in his drawer for some boxers. Finally, turning to her he asked, "Are you okay?"

She was hyperventilating. As he walked over to examine her, she clenched her eyes shut and pushed up against the wall again as tightly as she could.

"Whoa…okay. Look you're having a panic attack. I'm going to go into the bathroom to get dressed. You need to sit down before you pass out and try to breath. I'll be out of the bathroom soon and then I can take you to your room. Okay? Did you hear me?"

Molly's head bobbed up and down affirmatively. House disappeared into the bathroom. Once she heard the door close, Molly opened her eyes and felt her way to a chair where she slouched into it, still trying to get her breath. As she sat there, she started shaking. The bathroom door opened causing Molly to jump up, eyes wide opened, obviously afraid. She jerked back away from him.

"Molly! Molly! It's okay. I'm not going to touch you. I'm going to open the door so we can get you down to your room." House opened the door.

As soon as the door was opened, Molly felt as if she wasn't locked inside a small room with a strange man anymore. She wasn't sure what had triggered it, the small room or being in it with a man? But, why didn't she feel threatened last night? Was it because she was in her own room with her belongings and she felt in control of her environment? Her breathing started to deepen and color started to race back into her face.

"I'm feeling better." She said, sitting back down.

"Opening the door? You feel better because I opened the door?"

Nodding, she also shrugged, "I don't know why."

"I guess the idea of being alone with a man in his room triggered some of your old feelings. It's hard to accept that all the work you've done here might go down the tube. Maybe that brought it on."

She had so wanted to be able to report to Dr. Christy that she had been alone with a man and not freaked out that maybe her need to prove herself to her shrink did bring on the panic attack. _Maybe._

He knelt down near her, but didn't touch the still shaking woman. "I usually have that affect on women after they get to know me."

Molly let out a little chirp that finally gave way to a laugh. "I'm so sorry. It was nothing that you did or about you personally."

"I know that." He said with authority. "I may be old, but my body's not that bad."

Molly laughed again. "Greg, I thought I could be alone with a man in their room and not feel overwhelmed. But, obviously I'm not there yet."

"Well, it's even hard for me to be alone in this room. It's not exactly inviting. But, you're okay in your room? I mean, okay with me being in there?"

She nodded. "Boy, will my shrink have a field day with that."

"Let's go play some cards."

Molly stood up and smiled. House thought about putting a hand on her elbow, but decided that he might be pushing it. She could sense that he was going to touch her and then pulled back. Stealing herself, Molly didn't want him to feel as if she was unapproachable. She liked House and could use a good friend in this place. She put a hand tentatively on his upper arm, a safe place to touch. House stopped in the hall and turned to listen, thinking she did it to get his attention.

"Greg. I wasn't always like this. I'm always with men…they come and go all day in my life. But, I've had some bad experiences lately and need desperately to get my life back."

"I figured you came with some Samsonite or you wouldn't be in here. You'll handle it."

The poker game that evening was hilarious with House winning a smuggled Snickers, nail file, matches and aspirin. Surprisingly, Molly was the big winner, taking in a lot of contraband. House hadn't laughed so hard in a long time. They had played with a woman with Histrionic personality disorder that was miffed when no one would give her enough praise over her winning hand. She'd thrown a drink in the face of the neurotic after he told her she was a below average player. Unlike his real life, House found the patients to be more than entertaining. But he wasn't sure about Molly.

When he got back to his room there was a message taped to his door to go to the reception desk. He made his way up to the desk which had one old man sitting behind the desk watching television. House saw a bouquet of Easter Lillies in a clear vase on the counter.

"Hey, dude." House yelled over the television.

"What?"

"I'm Greg House, they told me to come up here."

"Yeah, those flowers are for you."

"_Me?"_

The old man didn't bother to say anything more; he shook his head and went back to watching television.

House pulled the card out of the flowers, opened it up and smiled. There was a wrapped Trojan and a card that simply said, 'Be Safe--Wilson'. Taking the flowers, House whistled, "Molly Malone."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I wanted her to respect my decision…that's all I wanted. But no, she didn't trust my _own medical judgment_. The very same judgment people come from all over the world to get!"

"Maybe she thought you were in too much pain to be lucid?"

House threw the pillow on the floor, "If I didn't fully believe that I was going to get through it, I would have told her to take the leg off or anything to make the pain go away. But no, I had enough presence of mind to tell them to put me into a coma to get me through the pain. _I would have made it._"

"But, surely no one would authorize that operation unless they thought they were saving your life."

"_This is a life?_ I'm in constant pain, day in, day out." House was standing, arms folded and staring out the window.

"The physical therapy isn't working?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, it's working—some. I still feel pain at the end of the day. But it's getting better."

"Good. So when are you going to let go of this anger? Don't you think you spend way too much energy on the past and very little on the future?"

He laughed, "Easy for you to say. You've been in here three and a half months." He sat down in the chair again. "When are you going to tell me about your problem?"

"Problem? I don't have no stinking problems." Molly said in her best Mexican accent. "Greg, how is your therapy going?"

He snickered, "Fine Dr. Collins."

She chuckled. He had started calling her Dr. Collins whenever they talked about his therapy. "Does Dr. Tarrington know about your anger?"

"Tarrington is a tool. I liked Nolan better, but he went off to academia. Tarrington says, 'uh huh, mmmhmm.' He never laughs at my jokes, not like you. You laugh at everything." He narrowed his eyes and gave her a staged glare, "I think you're laughing at me now!"

"_I am _laughing at you_!"_ Molly started chuckling, "You make me laugh a lot."

House grinned. For the last two weeks they had spent a lot of time together. She'd come to physical therapy and, at first, she'd just do the exercises with him, but after a week the physical therapist had her assist him with his mechanical exercises, freeing the therapist to help other patients. After therapy they'd go outside and read or talk, sometimes play croquet.

"What am I going to do when you go home?" House said without thinking how it would sound.

"I'll probably be in here a lot longer than you."

"Why do you say that? I thought you were making headway."

She cocked her head and shook it, "I am. I am. But, it's not like it happens overnight."

He stood up and went over to sit on her bed. She jerked her head to the side to look at him, curious as to what he was going to do.

"Do you feel like you want a piece of this? Do you have an overwhelming desire to jump my bones?" He puffed his chest out.

She howled. "No, I have an overwhelming desire to try and figure out what's going through your head."

"See, you aren't threatened by me being close, you're comfortable being with me. That's progress, right?"

She thought she understood. He was able to sit on her bed and she wasn't anxious, just curious. Maybe she was making more progress than she thought. "I guess I am comfortable being around you. But, you're my friend and you haven't tried to touch me."

He reached over and put a hand on her smooth white foot. At first she pulled it back like a bullet out the muzzle of a forty-five and then she looked at it as if it were separate from her body. The foot inched forward again to House's fingers. She placed her toes on his fingers and then smiled at him.

House put his hand on her foot again and rubbed. "I owe you a foot rub from the poker game last night."

She looked down shyly. "You don't have to."

"I'm here; your foot is here, might as well." He sat back on the bed with his back against the wall and pulled her feet into his lap. "Hand me some lotion."

She threw him the small bottle of Aveno lotion that he caught in mid-air. He squirted some on his hands and rubbed it on her feet. Settling back, he looked down at her feet as he rubbed, admiring how small they were. He massaged the instep and then the heel up to her ankle and back down. Neither of them said a word, the intimate feel of his fingers on her feet was lulling her into a peaceful state of relaxation.

"Molly?" He looked into her eyes; she was so relaxed they were at half mast. "You know my therapist claims I'll be in here for quite awhile. He doesn't think I'm making any progress."

"Really?" She was genuinely surprised. Each night that they were together he poured out his heart about something, about his family, about his mind, about the pain, about Stacy, about his leg. She'd never known anyone as well as she knew him. Going through his pain had helped her too. She had to look inside at what made her tick whenever he brought up an issue. Her therapist had mentioned that she was making marvelous progress, progress Molly knew she wouldn't be making if she didn't talk to House every night.

"He's surprised that my physical and pain therapy is going so well. But he says I haven't addressed the things that have made me so miserable."

"Did you tell him about your real father? Or that you're afraid that if your brain goes, you're nothing? Or what you just told me about feeling betrayed, that Stacy didn't trust the one thing you prize above all else—your medical knowledge and intellect?"

House shrugged, "It hasn't come up."

Her mouth dropped open, _"What do you talk to him about?"_

"The Yankees winning the series, Star Wars, Psychiatry, you know, fantasy."

She frowned and said with a tone of disappointment, "Oh Greg."

"God, you have small feet."

* * *

"Don't you want out of here?" She asked House.

"Why?"

She snickered, _"So you can have a life."_

"I have more of a life in here."

Molly drew in a sharp breath, "You can't mean that."

"All I have is my work and my music out there."

"Don't you date?"

"By the hour."

She put a hand over her mouth. "You don't hire hookers do you?"

"It's better than chasing tail in a bar. At least when the hour's up I can ask them to leave."

"_Oh Greg. Prostitutes? I arrest prostitutes!"_

"_You what?"_

"I arrest prostitutes or I used to when I was in vice. I'm in homicide now."

"You're a cop?" His eyes were wide and mouth open slightly.

Molly laughed, "You've known me for two weeks and you never asked me what I do for a living."

"Crap, you're a cop?"

She nodded. "You have a problem with that?"

"Damn right I do. A cop ruined my life!"

She smirked, "I doubt that. You ruined your life, Greg and the cop just pointed it out."

"Do you know Tritter?"

"Yeah, Michael's a detective in Plainsboro. Why?"

"Friend of yours?"

"Acquaintance."

House pushed her feet out of his lap, stood, grabbed his cane and started for the door.

"Greg? What—"

But he was gone. She sat back on the bed, stunned, her mouth open, brow furrowed. At first she was angry and then she was just sad and hurt by his demeanor. At dinnertime she entered the brightly lit cafeteria, saw him sitting with a couple of the men from his therapy group, but he barely looked up. When his eyes did connect with hers, he turned back to the men.

She grabbed a bowl of soup and tried to look defiant as she sat with June. They talked, but Molly had a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Her mind kept going back to his reaction to her career, wondering what had been the genesis of his feelings. Eventually she excused herself and went back to her room.

The following day was a bright, sunny day with lots of greenery springing up outside. Several of the patients were outside on the patio eating their breakfasts in light jackets, taking advantage of a beautiful day. Molly found a small table overlooking the grounds and ate her breakfast in silence. When done, she bussed her dishes and as she was leaving she passed House.

"Morning, Greg."

She was pretty sure she heard a grunt which she assumed was his version of good morning. After brushing her teeth she went to her private session and after five minutes, burst into tears. She hadn't cried in over a week so her tears took Dr. Christy by surprised. When she was pushed to tell the doctor why she was crying, she told her the whole story about their relationship. Although Christy was aware of some of it, she wasn't quite aware of how deep Molly's feelings had grown or how House had been using Molly as his therapist.

"Molly this is serious. Dr. Tarrington has been exasperated over the lack of forthrightness on the part of Dr. House. It appears he's made great headway, but with the wrong person. But, what is this you're feeling?"

"It's nothing, I'm sure. I'm just upset because I had an ally in here. He makes me laugh so much. We…well, I was having a good time. I really enjoyed my time with him." She hesitated, not sure she should tell her. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I let him touch me, on my bed."

"_Touch?" _Christy was shocked.

"Well, touch sounds more titillating than it was. He lost at poker and offered a foot rub as part of his bet. He sat at the foot of the bed and rubbed my feet."

"Still, someone rubbing your feet is fairly intimate. How did you feel when he did it?"

"Good, calm. I wasn't afraid that he was going to hurt me. That's good isn't it?"

She nodded. "It's very good. Very good indeed."


	6. Chapter 6

**Dear Readers, Going to Yosemite for a few days...see you on Wed or Thursday! Thanks for reading! Mark your alert buttons and you'll get notice of when I post the next chapter!**

**Chapter 6**

"You've been talking to Molly Collins, haven't you?" Tarrington scowled as he leaned towards House from his easy chair.

"That bitch! What did she say?"

The doctor pushed his classes up his nose and glared at House, "That bitch said nothing to me. Her psychiatrist told me that you've been sharing your feelings with her. That's all that was said and Molly only told her as part of her therapy."

"I'm suing you and Christy back to the stone ages. You're not supposed to share patient information."

"Technically, I'm only sharing Ms. Collins' information and since no specifics were revealed, even she would have a hard time suing me back to the stone ages. Dr. House, I've come to the decision that I'm not the psychiatrist for you. You need someone that you'll talk to, share with. You need a woman."

"Now _that _I can agree with that. Do you allow conjugal visits?"

"I mean a female psychiatrist."

House sighed, "Christ, I don't have time to start over. I don't want a new shrink. You're right, I've been talking to Molly—a lot. I've had time to think through a lot of stuff. I'll tell you where it's gotten me, what I've discovered."

For the next hour House described his conversations with Molly, his subsequent analysis of the conversations and the feelings the conversations elicited. Tarrington sat fixed, his mouth slightly open at the amount of information pouring forth. He postponed his next session to continue his session with House.

When House was through talking, Tarrington looked him in the eye and asked, "Are you sure Molly Collins isn't a therapist? You've had some remarkable insights into your emotional history."

House shrugged, "So, can we go from here?"

Tarrington nodded, "I think we can go from here, as long as you continue to open up."

House gave a curt nod, looked at the clock and stood up. Without any fanfare, he left, not really knowing where he was going. His physical therapy wasn't scheduled for another two hours. He found himself down a familiar hall, outside room 155, _. _He didn't knock, he tried the knob, but it was locked. Pounding on the door he started yelling.

"Let me in. Damn it; let me in!" There was no sound, but he was sure she was in there. "Damn it, Molly, I want you to let me in."

"Why?" The voice was from behind him in the hall. He jumped and turned around.

"Christ, what are you doing out here?"

"I was coming back from a late lunch. Why do you want into my room? Did you forget something?"

He turned around and grabbed her in his arms, his lips covering hers, devouring her with his mouth. The kiss wasn't being returned; she was pushing away—hard, so hard that when he let go she fell on her butt and crawled several feet away from him.

He threw his hands up and rolled his eyes at the cowering creature on the floor. "Molly, I'm not trying to get in your pants. I just wanted to kiss you, tell you that I'm sorry. I know what you're going through, but you can't interpret every touch or kiss as an invitation to go to bed."

Molly was barely able to comprehend what he was saying. The wooshing sound of her blood pumping and the lightheadedness was making it difficult to concentrate. She closed her eyes and tried to keep the world from swimming around her. Then it happened—she was back in the concrete room. She saw him, could smell him, feel him coming in the night, sometimes taking her without the light on, torturing her with the pipes, the machete, the knives. Molly reached out to brace herself, she had gone blind. House pulled her key from around her neck and opened her room. Throwing her over his shoulder he took her inside and laid her gently on the bed. Her eyes were still closed and the sweat was pouring off of her. Her breathing was labored.

Sitting next to her on the bed, House gently stroked her hair back and, in a soothing voice, calmed her, "Molly, I'm going to go get Christy, get her to prescribe something for you. You need Ativan."

She shook her head, "I'm starting to calm down. Greg, would you please leave me? I really need to be alone right now. Please?"

He grimaced and stood. Looking down he gave her a quick nod and then left. Molly looked up at the ceiling and tried to concentrate on her breathing to keep it from going into overdrive. She wasn't sure why she went into panic mode. _Was it because the kiss was intimate or because it came out of the blue or both? Why did he do it if he knows why I'm in here?_

Molly didn't go to dinner, staying in her room to avoid House. Around midnight, she could feel her stomach rumbling so she thought she'd go down to the kitchen and see if anyone was around. Hopefully she could steal an apple or banana from the fruit locker. As she made her way through the halls she passed the hall leading to his room. Tempted to go and talk to him, she turned towards his door, but quickly changed courses and continued to the kitchen where a janitor was cleaning. She grabbed some fruit and a carton of milk from the refrigerator and snuck it up to the 'quiet lounge on the third floor.' The quiet lounge had no games, no television, just sofas and chairs for talking and reading.

She came out of the stairwell, turned the corner and, as she walked into the sky blue lounge, saw him. He was sitting with his leg up, massaging it, his face contorted in pain.

"What do you want?" He asked his voice strained from the pain in his leg.

"I…uh. I stole this food from the kitchen and didn't want to get caught. I'm hungry."

"That's what you get for avoiding me." He said, his hand still massaging the thigh.

She sat down on a couch catty-corner to him. "Is your leg hurting?"

"No, I'm always awake at midnight sitting in a lounge massaging myself." He blew air out of his cheeks. "Gives me something to massage besides the third leg."

She watched as he winced whenever he touched certain places on his leg. "Is the pain relief helping at all?"

"Yeah, usually but sometimes I still get knots."

The thought hit her that he got knots whenever he was stressed or upset. Maybe the whole kiss incident had affected him more than her. She sat and ate as he continued to massage and then stand and walk for a bit.

When she was done, she stood up and went over to the couch he was sitting on. "Greg, my Dad had a knot in the muscle from when he was shot. I learned how to give a mean rubdown. Come on, I'll treat you to a massage, okay?"

"No thanks. I don't want you groveling on the ground hyperventilating."

She flinched, "I'm sorry about that. It wasn't what I wanted to do. I just have issues."

"We all have issues. You need to get a grip and realize that not all men are trying to get between your legs." He said it, but knew it didn't ring true. He'd jump her the minute she gave him any kind of signal that said 'I want it.'

Molly nodded, "I know. Come on, I'll give you that massage now."

He really did want some relief and if she could help, he was all for it. They walked back to his room and when they entered, she chuckled. The vase was sitting on the dresser no longer filled with flowers, but holding pens. The rest of the room looked the same, except the clothes were unfolded and piled in the chair. She went into the bathroom, turning on the faucet to heat the water.

She continued to monitor the water as she spoke to him through the door, "You need to take a bath for a few minutes, soak your leg so it will loosen the muscle a little before I give you my massage."

He hobbled to the door of the bathroom. "You're going to massage me in the tub?"

She laughed, "You wish! No. Just soak the leg for ten minutes and then I'll get you out on the bed and give you the massage."

He took off his t-shirt and his lounging pants. Molly turned and saw his naked chest and flushed. He had hair in all the right places including the little trail that started from him belly button and slipped underneath the elastic band of his boxers. She felt a little twinge in her groin, something she hadn't felt in six months. A slight flicker of desire made her smile to herself.

Not sure what she was looking at, House stared down at his belly button. "Are you doing a survey on innies and outies?"

"No, I just…I just uh. I just thought your boxers were interesting."

The boxers had the Monty Python Knight with the missing limbs. Across the front was written, "It's only a flesh wound."

"You like Monty Python?"

Molly chuckled and nodded. "My favorite part of the Holy Grail is that part—the whole, 'It's only a flesh wound' part."

"Great, me too. Thank God, it means our kids should have a good sense of humor too." He said without showing that any sign that he was teasing.

Molly knew better, "And how many children are we having?" She stuck her hand in the bath and motioned that he could get in. "I'll step out."

He dropped his boxers, "You don't have to, I mean if we're going to have a couple of kids, you might as well see the family assets."

Molly blushed a crimson red and gasped as House dropped his boxers and moved towards the bathtub. House snickered as he tested the water, putting his leg in slowly and easing his body into the very warm water. "I can't believe a cop is embarrassed by the dangly parts between a man's legs. Or are they just the biggest that you've seen?"

Molly looked away and took a deep breath. "Oh, I've seen bigger—on my six year old nephew."

Sitting in the tub he laughed, "Oh, you have gotten your sense of humor back. Sure you don't want to come and wash me?"

"I think I can resist."

"Your loss."

She went out to the room and began to fold the clothes in the chair and put them away in the drawers. As she put the socks away she found the Trojan and wondered about a man who thought he'd get lucky in a mental institution. _How did he manage to smuggle that in? _

She saw that he was reading Julius Caesar's _The Gaul Wars_, something she had read years ago. She picked it up and began reading until she heard the drain and could tell he was getting out. A few minutes later he walked out in some clean boxers and walked over to the bed where she was sitting. Getting up to let him lie down, Molly could smell the Dial soap he had used. He smelled so clean, so sexy. Looking down at her, Molly was sure he was going to kiss her again. Her heart raced and she could feel the panic coming back, but then he lay down and scooted back on his pillows to sit up a little.

Molly grabbed the lotion that she had brought in from the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Squirting the lotion on his scar she began to stroke in firm upward movements. She kneaded and massaged for several minutes without saying anything, letting her thumbs dig deep into the knots that were at the top of the scar.

When she finally looked up, he had leaned his head back on the wall and closed his eyes. The wrinkles were deep in his forehead and around his eyes. The thinning of his hair on the crown was noticeable, although she couldn't see it from her angle, and he had a lot of gray where he did have hair. She thought he must be in his late forties, early fifties.

The knots started to disappear under her touch and she could see his face relax, the pain floating away. "How does that feel?"

He opened an eye, "Great. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"My dad went through a lot of physical therapy over the years, so did I."

"It feels good."

"I'm glad."

After another fifteen minutes, he held his arm out to the side and offered for her to crawl up next to him. She hesitated, unsure if she could be that close to a man. But this was different. This was a man she trusted, who had told her his life story, warned her he was an abrasive jerk, shown that he was extremely vulnerable and had lamented that his best defense was to manipulate people into doing what he wanted them to do.

Molly crawled onto the bed, putting her head on his shoulder as his arm curled around her. She could smell the Dial again, hear his heart, watch his chest heave slowly up and down. It had been a long time since she had been in a man's arms. Molly put her hand on his chest, resting it in the hair that sprouted in grays and brown. She wasn't afraid. _She wasn't afraid!_ A tear trickled down her nose and fell onto his chest, but he didn't open his eyes. His breathing was deep and long, a sign that he was asleep. She closed her eyes and when they opened again the room was filled with sunlight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dear Readers, Thanks for being patient! Here's a very long chapter to say thanks for coming back to the story! Please review if you're enjoying the story. Thanks! Kim**

**Chapter 7**

Molly tilted her head back to look up at his face.

He opened one eye and frowned. "Can't we just go back to sleep for a couple more hours?"

"I have therapy in an hour and I'm starved. I'm going back to my room to dress and get a quick breakfast." Molly said, sitting up.

He opened both eyes and sighed in resignation. "Damn, I was just getting to the good part when you throw yourself at my feet and beg me to make love to you."

Molly let out a nervous laugh. "Wow! You have a vivid imagination."

"I can't help if most of my dreams these days are about you; it must be from being cooped up. You're the only single female remotely worth dreaming about."

She felt the blood rush to her face. "Greg…I'm not—"

"Shhhh, shhh, shhh. Don't say something that you'll regret. I know—you love me like a brother."

Molly giggled, "No, I wouldn't say that. I'd say that, any other time, any other place, I'd probably find this all very flattering. Right now it just feels odd. I need to sort out my feelings. Part of me wants to run and the other part is all girly and wants to bat her eyes, run her hand through her hair and wink at you."

"Well, can the girl with the flirty eyes come out to play?"

A sad smiled passed over Molly's lips, "Someday. Hopefully, someday."

House dropped all pretenses of being his big, bad usual self. "Molly, it feels odd to me too. It's been a long time since I've actually talked to a woman without every other word being moron or fun bags. They warn you about forming relationships with people in here because it's kind of a bunker mentality and those relationships fall apart in the real world, but I hope we can remain friends—out there."

Molly stood up and looked down on him. He looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep. "I hope so too Greg. You've been a good friend to me." She started to walk out the door and then turned back. "Maybe later you can explain why you hate cops so much."

"You've seen _The Unforgiven_? Well, think of Tritter as Gene Hackman."

She snorted and shook her head, the light in her eyes dancing back and forth. "You are one funny man." Opening the door, she left him with his thoughts.

_A cop, she's a cop. What are the odds that I'd end up with a cop being my closest thing to a friend in here? Trust a cop? Me? Well, at least she slept with me. That's a start. I wonder if she'll ever like me, want to get naked with me? I mean, she claims she's with men all the time; she's a sex addict; I don't want to be the exception…that the one man she's able to resist is me!_

Molly felt a little high, like she'd just had a couple of drinks. Those butterfly feelings in her stomach were a little unnerving. She felt like a woman, a woman who wanted so much to feel like a woman again. Little smiles kept creeping across her mouth as she ate breakfast. The memory of his touch made her smile, the memory of his Dial soap brought another. All morning she went around feeling giddy. But, underneath was also a fear, an irrational fear of him sexually overpowering her, of hurting her, mixed with the natural fear that he wouldn't like her as much as she liked him.

Therapy didn't go well.

"You slept with him?"

"Yes, we slept on top of his bed. I was fully clothed and he was in his boxers. There was no tongue, no fondling, no sexual intercourse, just sleeping. It felt _good!_ "

Christy gave her a serious look of disapproval. "Molly, I'm all for you having a personal relationship with a man that hopefully leads into a sexual one when you've built up that trust. But, we strongly discourage relationships here in the institute. People don't come here to find dates. They come here because they are seriously damaged and need time out of their lives to make corrections in the course of their futures. Dr. House is not different. He's has a lot of issues or he wouldn't be here."

Molly was frustrated. "I know his issues. He's an addict, he's in physical pain, he wants to trust people, but he doesn't, he's abrasive, he's narcissistic and he's somewhat anti-social. But, I grew up around cops and you could say that about a lot of them. He's also vulnerable, sweet, human, caring, intelligent, funny and not bad to look at. I think I could trust him."

Christy was shaking her head. "You can't trust anyone in here that's undergoing in-patient therapy. They have too many issues for you to do that."

"Well, I know you don't approve, but I do trust him. Or, at least, I'm trying to trust him."

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop seeing him while you're in here. I can't approve of this."

Molly shook her head, "I don't understand why. He really helps me."

"Yes, but you could be basing your decisions on feelings you have for a man that's going to walk out of here and back to his life and you to yours. He's an addict, you're a cop. The likelihood that he'll relapse is high. Do you want to be there for that?"

Tucking her feet up under her on the sofa, Molly looked uncomfortable. "We haven't even talked about continuing this outside of here, so you don't have to worry. I don't see him wanting anything outside of this place. We'll both be busy rebuilding our lives."

"But what if he _wants _to build it with you."

Molly giggled and threw her head back, "Gregory House? Build it with a cop? I don't see that happenin'."

"You must have considered it. Come on Molly, you have to be honest with me, with yourself."

"I've thought about us dating. I haven't thought past that."

"What about sex?"

"Sex?"

Christy rolled her eyes. "Okay, you are really playing coy today."

"Yes, yes, yes. I've thought about sex with him."

"And? How did that go in your mind?"

"My mind gets through the foreplay, but the consummation…I can't even imagine it."

"Not good Molly. Consummation comes after foreplay."

"Duh."

"What stops you?"

"I'm afraid it's going to hurt. My vagina was basically reconstructed. They said there might be some scar tissue…they won't know until I…"

"Have sex."

"Yes."

"Does Dr. House know what happened to you?"

Molly nodded, "He told me right off that he knew why I was here."

"How? I thought you said you weren't sharing with anyone outside of us and group?"

"I think he must have read about it in the paper. You remember? The two weeks of solid front page coverage?"

"Possibly. I guess he might have recognized you from that."

"Guess? People were standing outside the hospital with cameras when I came out."

"You should discuss it with him."

Molly took a deep breath. "For God's sakes! We haven't even gotten to first base."

Christy gave her a knowing look. "You're giving foot rubs, massages and you're sleeping with him."

"_Sleeping! _Operative word there, _sleeping._"

"Okay, when you're ready to stop lying to yourself, then we'll get back to this. Our time's up." Christy stood and smoothed her skirt. Walking to the door, she opened it and leaned against the edge of it and shook her head. "I'd prefer if you didn't sleep or play footsy with Dr. House—at least not until you deal with your issues."

Molly wouldn't commit; she couldn't. Her heart was already doing that little skip thing whenever she thought of him or saw him or someone mentioned his name. Hardnosed Bitch was her moniker at the station. It was always said with love, but she had earned it by being a steady partner and a fearless police officer. But, and this she admitted with shame, she didn't feel hardnosed anymore.

She walked out and turned the corner. Leaning up against the wall was a tall lanky figure with a cane. He turned and gave her a very suggestive smile. She was both anxious and excited by it.

She smiled back. "Hey stranger, what are you in for? Shanking a cop?"

"Hmmm, more like shagging a cop. Want to be my victim?"

There it was, on the table. Sex.

"Greg, Dr. Christy doesn't want me getting close to you while we're both dealing with our issues. She thinks we may substitute a relationship for needing to deal with our issues."

He rolled his eyes. "Relationship? A little late…I mean we're buddies, right?"

Grabbing him by the elbow she looked up in the blue eyes and gave him a big grin. "We're the best of buds."

They walked to physical therapy and worked out. Once they were both done for the day, they went outside in the warm sun and sat on the grass. House reached up and pulled a strand of hair from her face and placed it behind her ear sending electrical pulses through her body like a static shock.

She asked, "How are you doing now that you're actually talking to your doctor?"

House closed his eyes and sighed as his mouth turned down. "Yeah, it's starting to hurt, so I guess it's a good thing."

"Hurt?"

"I'm talking to him about women now."

She blushed, "Oh."

"It's okay. We're dealing with the whole Stacy issue and what I want in a woman."

"What do you want in a woman?"

"Breasts, hair, ass, legs and a vagina might be nice."

She looked down. "Yeah, a vagina might be nice—if it works."

He laughed, "What? Yours works—it works overtime!"

"What?" Molly was clearly confused.

"It might be a little used, but I'm sure it functions just fine."

She gasped. "_A little used?"_

The horror on her face was apparent. "Hey, I didn't mean anything. I'm sorry, that was a little insensitive."

"A little?" Molly jumped up.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her ankle. "I say stupid things. I'm really sorry. I was just being an ass. Please don't go, please?"

"Greg, what happened to me was beyond words. I don't need you to make it worse."

"You never talk about what happened to make you so screwed up. I don't care if you asked for it or didn't ask for it…it's all in the past."

"Asked for it? You think I asked for it?"

Now he was confused. "I don't know one way or another if you asked for it. I mean don't you have to put out some vibe for you to connect with the guy?"

Her eyes grew wide as her nostrils flared. "The guy? Connect with the guy! Let go of my ankle, I don't know you."

House refused to let go of her ankle. She started jerking on it but he held tight. She bent down and started hitting on his head and hands.

"Whoa!" House grabbed her and wrestled her to the ground laughing.

But Molly was fighting for her life. Biting, kicking, scratching. She didn't see House. All she could see was _his_ brown eyes, smell _his_ rancid breath, feel _his_ body squirming on top of her. It didn't take long for House to realize that Molly wasn't here with him, she was reliving some horrible nightmare. He was getting the crap beat out of him and from the distant look in her eyes, she wasn't beating on him. Orderlies came streaming out of the building and proceeded to restrain Molly. A few seconds later, Christy was running across the lawn, her lab coat flying behind her like Superman's cape.

"Molly! Molly!" Christy screamed, running with a hypodermic needle towards them. House pulled out of the fracas and stood up as Christy bent down and gave Molly a shot of Ativan. As the orderlies carried a flailing Molly indoors, Christy turned on House. "What the hell did you do?"

He shrugged. "I…I..I just was joking. I told her that her vagina was a little used."

"Oh, that's horrible! You're so callous. How can you say something like that when you know she's been through hell?"

House was now frustrated. "Jesus. So she likes sex. That's okay. I don't care how many times she did it. In fact, I was hoping she might someday let me—" House stopped. He could see from the wide eyes and snarl that he had hit a nerve.

"You're disgusting!" She turned and walked into the building.

House didn't see Molly for a week. He heard that they had moved her upstairs to a room where she could be monitored twenty-four hours a day. He bribed the orderlies to bring him news and finally found an orderly to allow him access to her, but the orderly couldn't sneak him in until two in the morning. House waited pacing back and forth, then sitting and gnawing on his fingers. Finally, at one forty-five am he made his way up the back stairs and into the hall to meet up with the stout orderly who was now $500 richer.

"Fifteen minutes, man. They do rounds in twenty and I've got to get you out, put the cameras back on and act cool, okay?"

"Fine." House said as he looked around for other staff.

They walked down the hall stopping in front of a room with a large window. Inside, Molly was sleeping on her back. There was a night light that was on inside the room to make it visible to everyone outside.

House was worried about the window and someone seeing him. "Is someone going to see me?"

"Nah, I'm the only one on the ward tonight and all the patients are out of it thanks to their drugs. I gave your girlfriend all her drugs except the sleeping pills tonight, so you should be able to wake her."

House nodded and realized his palms were sweaty and his heart racing. Excited about seeing her, House had forgotten his cane, but he was surprised as to how strong his leg felt from the workouts. He nodded that he was ready and the orderly opened the door, leaving it slightly ajar so House could get out. House sat on the edge of the bed and bent over Molly. "Molly? Molly? Wake up."

Molly started to stir, opening her eyes and trying to focus on House. "Greg?" She gave him a big grin and sat up, putting her arms around his neck. "Oh, Greg, you've come to rescue me, get me out of here. You're my hero." She planted a big kiss on his lips. Pulling back she raised up on her knees, leaned in again and gave him another passionate kiss, her mouth pulling his lip inside as she sucked gently on it. Letting his lip go, she wiggled her tongue into his mouth and circled his tongue with hers. House just about fainted when she pressed her breasts, lightly covered by a sleeveless t-shirt, against his chest.

"Molly, you don't want to do that. I'm having a hard time keeping my mind on my goal."

She kept kissing him, pulling back just long enough to ask, "What goal was that?"

He noticed that her words were slurring and her pupils were pinpoints. "To apologize. I was an ass, I shouldn't make fun of your addiction."

Molly was too busy running her hands up under Houses's t-shirt, grabbing his chest, rubbing the hair on it. "Oh God, I want you. Screw me, Greg. Screw me, hard."

House's head was swimming. He could smell her musk, her shampoo. It was intoxicating and he was having a hard time finding the words to answer, "If I do that, what happens to your therapy? I'll put you back months."

"No, it will be great, a breakthrough." She giggled and continued to kiss him.

"I don't think so. I just came here to make sure you were okay and to apologize."

She kept rubbing him, sending her hands behind his back, pressing her mouth over his. "We could just have a quickie…a little fuck. Come on Greg, it will be fine. I'll be okay."

"You're hot, you're funny and you're brilliant, but this is just plain wrong. You'll never get out of this room if I take advantage of you. As much as I'll regret this, I can't have sex with you until you're out of here…I don't want to be the person who screws you up."

She rubbed her breasts against him again, "No, just be the person that screws me. Come on. I need to know how you feel inside me. I need to know if you'll hurt me."

He put his long fingers over her tiny shoulders and pushed her back. "I don't want to hurt you at all. I think I'm falling in love with you. I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason you stayed another day in here, in this little room, in this hospital." He felt a certain relief having said it out loud.

"You love me?" She asked, her words slurring, her eyes glazed.

"Christ you're drugged out of your gourd, aren't you?"

"They're giving me something-whatjamajigger. You know things to make me happy. I'm happy you're here and I just need to know if part A fits into part B. It's just a little engineering experiment that you can help me with."

He chuckled and kissed her on her forehead. "You don't know how badly I want to be Part A, but not yet. You get better and we'll engineer a better joining of parts, okay?" He pushed her back and then stood up, going to the door. He turned to look at her and smiled. She had on a little tank top that had little poodles on it that matched the little short shorts that came with the set. She looked like a teenager. He smiled and then opened the door and left. He couldn't wait to get down to his room and take a long shower to relieve the built up tension, sexual tension. He could feel his cock deflate from his reaction to her breasts pushing into his chest. But, the longer he thought about her and their contact, it popped right back up, making it an awkward trip back to his room.

Molly fell back into her druggish slumber, letting the memories of his visit blend into the fantasies of her drug induced dreams.

It was another two days before they moved her back to her room downstairs. As soon as House found out he scurried down the halls and knocked on her door. "Molly…Molly. Are you there?"

There was no sound so he tried the door, but it was locked. He vacillated between grinning at the thought of seeing her again and having heart palpitations from not knowing if she'd ever want to see him again. He then traveled across the courtyard and waited outside of Christy's office, but the person who came out wasn't Molly. Hobbling back to her room, he knocked on the door, but again there was no answer. Seeking his answers in the lounge, he looked for Molly, but there was no sign of her. At lunch, she didn't show. He was frustrated and worried about her. Pursing his lips and clenching his jaw, he ran across the courtyard.

The plain wood door was unlocked so he burst in much to Christy's surprise. "Where is she?"

"Dr. House get out of here, I have a patient." Christy was poised in her chair, hands on the arms, elbows in the air about to jump up.

"_I'm not leaving until you tell me where she is."_

Who?" Christy knew, but just wanted to torture him a little.

"You know who. Where's Molly?"

"Molly was given a four hour pass to go shopping. She'll be back later." Christy leaned forward on her elbows, "Now don't you ever barge in here again!"

House stuck his tongue out her then looked at the patient. Pointing at him, "That's Fickle Billy…hey Billy."

Billy raised his hand to acknowledge House.

"Hey Billy, here's a clue why you can't find the right woman—you're gay. You keep barking up yoo-hoos when you need a ding dong to play with. Take care." House smiled and left.

He went to the front and sat in the lobby waiting. When the mini-bus got back to the hospital, House watched as several patients piled out of the bus. Molly got off the bus with half a dozen shopping bags. He walked out the door towards her, feeling more excited than he wanted. When she looked up and saw him, she smiled and waved her packages at him with glee. House chuckled and grabbed a few of them from her when they met.

"Christ, did you have to compensate for your inadequacies by buying out H & M?"

She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't shopping at H& M. I went to Macy's. I even bought you something." Reaching into the bag, she pulled out an Ed Hardy t-shirt, held it up to his shoulders and nodded, "You'll look good in it."'

He was chuffed that she had thought of him. "Cool. I like it."

She started walking again. "Well, it's been several weeks since I've seen you."

He stopped and grabbed her wrist to stop her. "_No, _I saw you just the other night."

"Night?" She wrinkled her brow. "What are you talking about?"

"You know…you practically raped me a few nights ago."

She looked stunned. "Are you joking? Me? I haven't seen you since you wrestled me to the ground and the little men in white jackets came and got me." She began walking again.

"Hello? I was in your cage the other night. You mauled me. I had to resist your wiley charms and go back to my room. You don't remember it?"

"Should I? I mean you didn't beg me to forgive you for being such a jerk, did you?"

"I thought we were past that?"

"Obviously we are, I just bought you a shirt, didn't I?"

"Good. Because I've been bored."

She shook her head as he opened the door for her to enter her bedroom. "I take it I'm just the entertainment?"

"Yeah." He said and then ruffled her hair.

"Hey, leave the coif alone."

He chuckled, "What coif. That more like a chop."

"You calling me ugly?"

His lips struggled to keep from showing how happy he was to have her back. They twitched into a grin. "God, I did miss you."

She stopped and dropped her smile, "Me too."

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" He said seriously.

"If by trouble you mean we're one of those couples that find each other in a loony bin and then we don't know how to make it work when we get out of here?"

House flinched, "Couples? I only meant we're in trouble because our shrinks aren't going to like it."

Having completely misread him, she was embarrassed. "Oh, yes of course. I was just joking…you know, like you were about the kids."

House sat down in the chair. "You weren't joking."

She started to deny it, but then snapped her mouth shut and turned away.

"Do you think when we're not so screwed up that we might…" House stopped, trying to think of the right words. "Do you think that maybe we could have lunch?"

She laughed at him. "Yeah, I think we could have lunch." She watched as he swallowed hard, his hand reaching for his brow as if he was contemplating something serious. "Greg? What is it?"

"I'm being evicted on Monday. Apparently, I'm outpatient material. I can even go back to work."

She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. Her lips curled up at the corners and her eyes went soft. "Greg! That's wonderful. I'm very happy for you."

He shook his head and scowled, "Yeah." Then he looked up, "Molly, when you're done here, do you think you'll be able to have sex without it being such a big drama?"

Molly raised her eyebrows and chuckled then sat down on the edge of the bed. "I hope it's a big drama, but not because it reminds me of all of this. I hope it's a big drama because it's a really good experience."

He moved over to the bed and sat down next to her. "You know, I've told you just about every crappy thing about my life. Tell me why it's taking so long for you to get out of here?"

She crawled up on the bed and put her head in his lap. "It was horrible. Night after night…" She started crying.

House put his hand on her hair and stroked the short locks of reddish blond back. "But, didn't you like it at all? I mean some of it had to be pleasant."

She turned over and looked up at him, her face skewed up in a mixture of anger and bewilderment. "Greg? Do you know what you're saying? It was horrible. It would have been horrible for any woman." Molly stopped midstream and sat up. "You know, I'm tired. I need a little space right now."

Not wanting to get it wrong, House took the cue and stood up. "I think I've said something to upset you and I want you to know I never meant to do that. I'll leave, but when I come back, I want you to tell me what happened because _I'm not getting it_." He didn't wait for a reply. He left and went to his room to read.

House returned after dinner and knocked on her door. Instead of the pain he had seen earlier, she opened the door and smiled, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him inside. Her hand touched his face gingerly as she smiled. "I really like you Greg, but we need to get a few things straight. You want to have sex with me don't you?"

His eyes flew open with surprise at her frankness. "I'd have to turn in my 'Man Card' if I didn't want to have sex with a hot female cop dressed in sweats."

She led him over to the bed. "I trust you. I even find myself sexually attracted to you. But the damage to my vagina and subsequent scar tissue may make sex painful. Plus, I have to be honest; I can't predict what my reaction to sex might be. I don't know if I'll be able to put my past behind me. You get out in two days and then you'll start to live your life...without me. I may not find someone I trust to share sex with for a long time. I don't want to wait."

"What? Whoa, what are you saying?"

"I want to have sex with you."

"Sex?"

"Yes, sex...the horizontal mambo? Plumbing the pipes? Hide the sausage?"

"No, I mean, here? Sex? _Here?_"

"Yes. This is a bedroom—that's a bed. You're an adult—I'm an adult."

"_We're both looneys."_

"You don't want to make love to me!" She accused him, her arms crossed over her chest and teeth clenched.

House looked desperate. "For God's sakes, of course I want to shag you! I want to shag you senseless, until we're both unable to excrete any body fluids. But, what about your....your condition?"

"Well, I need to know. I need to know if I can have sex and not hurt. I'm afraid and I need someone who can be gentle."

House shrugged his shoulders, looking a little too eager he ventured, "I can be gentle. Would you like me to be gentle?"

She laughed at him. "I'd like you a lot more if you would get naked."

His hands flew down to the hem of his t-shirt him and in seconds the brown _House of Blues _shirt was on the floor and his belt was loose. Watching, Molly had a hard time keeping herself from snickering from his obvious enthusiasm. He stopped midstream, noticing that she was making no effort to match his moves.

"Am I doing this alone?" He asked it as the lounging pants fell around his ankles.

"No! Oh, no! I was just so mesmerized by your speed and nimbleness."

"I'd appreciate it if I could see a little nimbleness on your end."

Giving him a cheeky grin she purred, "I'm very nimble." She stood up and took her t-shirt off, her breasts bouncing free of the cotton tee.

House sighed, "God, I've abused myself every day to this very scene. I feel like a boy getting his first feel-up."

"May I remind you that I haven't been felt-up yet?"

"Oh right!" House leaped towards Molly, hand extended as if he was going to grab an orange. His grasp landed firmly on her left breast. Standing in front of her looking into her eyes, his hand remained firmly attached; her roundness filling his palm. Neither of them moved.

Molly finally broke the silence, "Is that the extent of your lovemaking? Because I need just a little more than that."

House swallowed hard. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Sorry. I was just expecting Christy and six orderlies to burst through the door to pull my hand off of you. I was kinda testing to see how long it would take for them to arrive."

Molly looked around, "No orderlies. Want to try the other hand?"

He had a sparkle in his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that so often looked so weary. She thought that for all the time she had known him Greg seemed tired, tired of life, but now there was a tinge of hope and happiness. His long, warm hand left her breast, came down and slipped around her waist. He grew serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his mouth pursed and ready to say something. He finally gathered the courage to tell her, "I want this to work. If anything hurts or you feel worried, let me know."

"Can we go slow?" she said sheepishly.

"Absolutely." His heart felt like a blacksmith striking an anvil, it was beating so hard. As he tightened his grip around her waist he could feel her shaking. "Are you sure?"

Grabbing onto his upper arm, she shook her head and whispered hoarsely, "No. I'm not sure about anything except one thing-- I want to try with you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

House kissed her neck, letting his breath circle around her ear and cheek and then he touched the scars on her breast and chest. "What are those?"

"Greg, if you don't talk about my scars, I'll ignore yours. Deal? Otherwise, we may never do this."

House whispered in her ears, "Molly, I want to take your pants down now."

"I'd like that."

He fingered the zipper on her pants and slowly pulled it down. Taking a shallow, hot breath, he then undid the top button. Her pants started to slip down her creamy outer thighs. With a yank of his hand they fell to the floor and Molly stepped out of them. House grabbed her up again and kissed her, slipping his hand down the small of her back to the curve of her ass. He pulled her into his groin where she could feel his erection stiffening.

They stood for a few seconds just holding each other; her head nestled in the hair on his chest. She could smell a faint odor of sweat and soap. Molly reached over and licked his nipple playfully. He snorted and pushed her back to her bed.

"Lay down."He said; his voice hoarse with desire.

She sat down and crawled backwards up towards the pillows. Spreading her legs, the yellow laced panties with the pink roses guarded the entrance to her sex. He sat down and ran his hand from her knee up the soft skin of her thigh sending tingly feelings up to her cleft. His index finger slipped along the elastic of her panties. He could feel her skin and the hair between her legs. Looking up, he smiled at the two lovely breasts so prominently on display.

"You're beautiful."

Leaning back against the headboard, her eyes closed, House watched as Molly concentrated on his touch. She sighed as his finger trailed along her slit and then carefully spread it. Molly swallowed hard, afraid that when he felt inside he'd find her appallingly deformed. She imagined him grimacing and running into the night disgusted. Molly hadn't had the courage to touch or explore herself and now waited for House to explore for himself. Maggie's entire body tensed as she felt his fingers begin to seek the moistness between her slit. Opening her eyes, she looked up apprehensively, her gray eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

Molly was frozen, every muscle in her body tight. She was waiting for him to make another comment, some quip about the deformity, but House quickly became aware that she wasn't breathing.

"Molly? Is it hurting?"

She shook her head, but she still wasn't breathing

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes, no, I mean I just don't know if I can handle this."

"I don't want to hurt you."

Suddenly, he felt her push his hand away and start crying, "You don't understand, I want this, but I'm afraid that if I..." There was some sobbing and he couldn't understand her, "You'll..."

He shook his head. "You think I'll what?"

Unable to look at him, she swallowed and took a deep breath. "I think you'll run screaming into the night."

He removed his hand and crawled up to the pillow to hold her in his long, safe arms. "I'm not going anywhere, at least not in just my shorts."

Molly giggled.

House grinned, but then he kissed her forehead and laced his arm over her warm body, her breasts softly pushing into him. He sighed. "Molly you're not ready for this. Neither am I..." He thought about the erection which had poked boldly up as they held each other. "Okay, maybe my body is saying something different, but I have a habit of rushing into relationships without thinking through the consequences. And I could tell myself that it's just sex... _I want to tell myself it's just sex_,but I want more from this relationship and if having sex hurts you or sets you back then what does that say about me? That I was willing to sacrifice you for my fun?"

Feeling safe and warm in his arms, Molly barely made out what he was saying. She was no longer sure that she wanted sex yet. What she wanted, he was giving her, a warm, safe place to sleep. Her mind fogged over and her body relaxed into his as sleep took over.

House was about to say something else, but stopped when he heard the rhythmic breathing of sleep coming from Molly. He reached down and pulled a throw up over their bodies without losing his hold. Taking in a deep breath, he inhaled the smell of her body and the faint odor of her _Dove Soap._

The decision to put off sex still seemed to have come out of left field. Holding a semi-naked woman in his arms, her curves and smooth skin encased in his embrace, made him curse his chivalry. He could think of nothing else but making love to her. Molly seemed to sense this as she turned slightly, her breasts brushing his chest, making it even more difficult for him to think of anything but the desire welling inside him. House couldn't take it anymore; he started to get out of the bed.

Molly grabbed his arm and sat up slightly, her eyes blinking in an attempt to wake up. "Greg? Where are you going?"

"If I'm going to have any chance of not ravishing your gorgeous body, I need to go back to my room."

"Stay here. I sleep so well when you're beside me."

"Maybe you could get a dog."

She smiled, "Why, when I have you?"

He sighed and crawled back in bed and gave her a kiss. His erection flared again as their flesh touched again. Molly, head on his chest, reached down, slipping her small hand under the waistband of his shorts and followed the hair to his penis. House held his breath and closed his eyes as her hand rubbed under his balls and up his shaft. He concentrated on the long strokes of her hand as it firmly encircled the erection and brought him to an explosive and messy release. House's mouth fell open and a soft groan escaped as semen, more than he had expected, had sprayed all over her stomach and under her breasts.

House pulled up the cover and saw the mess all over both of them. He started snickering. "I haven't had a hand job in years. It was kind of nostalgic."

She looked down, "It was kind of messy. I need a washcloth, hint, hint."

House jumped up and went into her bathroom. Warming the water he soaped up the washcloth and then returned to find that Molly had discarded the throw and was waiting, for his return. House paused and wiggled his eyebrows. "You have beautiful breasts."

"My beautiful breasts are feeling sticky. Can I have the washcloth?"

He didn't hand it to her. Instead, he gently washed the semen from under her breasts and down her abs to her abdomen. Inspecting her body, he smiled at how milky her skin looked and how womanly her curves were. She looked lovely in the soft light that lit the room. He could see a slight glimpse of the dark outside through the blinds.

"I don't think I'll go back to my room. Let's go to sleep." He said as he crawled up with her in the generous twin bed and they held each other, sleep overtaking both of them.

They didn't set the alarm which caused havoc in House's group, all of whom had been enjoying his sordid tales of addiction and debauchery. They waited ten minutes in hopes that he would come and continue his tale of how he tricked his friend into bringing him Vicodin in jail when he spent the night on contempt charges for walking out of court.

When House didn't show, orderlies were dispensed to find him. Scouring his rooms, the lounges and grounds, he couldn't be found. The intercom announced that the hospital was being placed on minimum lockdown. No one could go in or out except staff and patients accompanied by staff.

The sound of the stern voice woke Molly. At first she thought _he, the monster,_ was in the bed with her, but quickly discerned that the smell was pleasant and the touch of the arm around her waist was gentle. Smiling, she remembered that is was House. His hairy, warm body felt long next to hers. There was a smile when she realized that what was poking into her thigh was his morning friend, although she was pretty sure this was just an anatomical response to morning since he was softly snoring in her ear. Stirring, she turned to look at him and then heard the announcement over the intercom that Gregory House was missing.

"Greg! Greg, wake up. They're looking for--"

There was a quick knock and the door opened. An orderly stuck his head in the door, shook it and then hit the button on the walkie talkie. "Two-four-niner on House. He's fifty-eight with Collins."

House lifted his head to look at him. Some chatter came back over the radio that neither Molly nor House could understand. The orderly shook his head again and narrowed his eyes. "You two are in trouble, big trouble."

Molly was clinging to the bed sheet, covering her body while House snarled at the orderly.

"Get out of here so that we can get dressed," House barked.

"No can do. I'm to keep you in my sight at all times."

House stood up, still in his boxers. The morning friend had limped off into the sunset the minute the orderly opened the door. "Fine, then you're going to have to make a decision which of us to watch because I'm going to go running down the street in my boxers yelling, 'Free at Last, Free at Last!'" With that, House physically pushed past the frustrated orderly and out the door.

Looking back and forth, the orderly made a decision that Molly was in her room, safe and sound, but House was mobile and walking in the direction of the front door. The orderly cussed and took off after him. Molly giggled, ran to the dresser, grabbed her clothes and went to shower.

Apparently, House took the long way to his session, keeping the orderlies from restraining him by waving his cane. He opened the door to his group therapy, walked in and sat down. All eyes went to him, his scar, the boxers and then his grin.

"Sorry, the boys were itching so we decided to get some air today. Now where was I?"

Marsha York, a meth addict, piped up, "Wilson had just given you the Vicodin..."

"Ah, yes."

Dr. Phinneas, a man with the face of a young boy, was the head of group and was having a hard time holding back his laughter. "Greg, please go back to your room and put on some clothes. We're almost done today; we'll continue your story tomorrow."

House shrugged, stood up and did a little curtsy, then turned on his heels and took off through the door. He wanted to confront Christy before she had her session with Molly. Not wanting anyone to tell him no, House breezed by the busy clerk and charged into Christy's office, surprised when he found her alone with her charts.

Looking up, Christy raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were working on boundaries?"

He shrugged his shoulders and grimaced. "Some things take and some don't. I want to talk to you about Molly. I'm not getting it. Every time I try to get her to open up about her addiction, she goes nuts on me."

Christy took off her glasses and looked askance. "Addiction? Molly has an addiction?"

Now House was confused. "Uh, aren't you treating her for liking too much polska kilbasa?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Molly's thin. She doesn't have a food addiction."

House shook his head vigorously, "Sex! I mean her addiction to sex."

"You've been running around here thinking Molly has a sex addiction? Where the hell did you come up with that?"

House started to explain, but realized he'd sound like a fool. "Forget that." He plopped down in a chair and slumped. "Why is she here?"

"You know I can't tell you that." There was a deep silence.

House knew she wouldn't, but he needed to know. "Does it have to do with the scars on above her breast and on her chest?"

"I can't tell you that, but I can let you use my internet connection and computer to Google her name."

Obviously, that was going to tell him what she thought he needed to know so he gave her a nod. She stood up and motioned for him to follow. They went out to the clerk's area where she pulled out a chair in front of a desktop computer and had him sit down.

"You have fifteen minutes. I don't want her to see you on the computer when she comes in. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Oh, and I want you to leave her alone while she's in here. You're becoming her crutch. She needs to get through this on her own power."

"I'm not going to leave her alone. I...I like her."

Christy wasn't happy, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we'll see about that."

Christy disappeared into her office as House brought up Google. He put in 'Molly Collins Trenton." Hitting the button he was surprised when there were over twenty-five hundred results. House hit the first one and was taken to the Trenton Gazette where a newspaper article, complete with a picture of Molly in her dress blue uniform popped up.

TRENTON P.D. VETERAN VICTIM OF THE TRENTON MAULER

Police discovered battered Trenton detective, Molly Collins, in an abandoned lot in the North Ward. Collins is reported to have been stabbed, battered and sexually abused by the sexual sadist and murderer known as the _Trenton Mauler_. It is believed that the Mauler has killed three women in the last ten months by stabbing them in the chest and genitals. Detective Collins, 36, is the only woman known to have survived the Mauler. Held for three weeks before being dumped in the lot, Collins is alleged to have been repeatedly tortured and sexually abused.

The Mauler's first victim, Peggy…

House could feel the blood drain from his head as he continued to read. The intimate details of the injuries were withheld, but House did find one article, very buried, which indicated that she had not just been raped, but penetrated with objects. He realized now why she was so concerned about whether or not sex would hurt. All of his words, everything he had said to her came back like a tidal wave washing over him. He felt like he was drowning in his own callousness. Now he understood why she had reacted as she had.

The fifteen minutes were up and before he could bring up another article, Christy came out and pulled out the monitor plug. "Your time is up; now get out before she gets here."

House sneered, but stood up and walked out the door, across the courtyard and back to his room. He paced back and forth, wondering what he was supposed to do. His immediate response was to want to run into Christy's office and confront Molly, tell her what a jerk he had been and that, for once in his life, he was sorry--sorry that he spent so much time talking about himself and didn't ask about her sooner. But, he realized that would be his usual selfish move to satisfy his need to address his mistake and to deal with his frayed emotions. The right thing to do would be to let her have her time with Christy to discuss what happened last night or what didn't happen last night and then wait for her to come to him.

He ate lunch and went to physical therapy although his attention was on the door, waiting for her to come through with her big smile and no-nonsense approach to exercise. His workout was almost complete, his body wet from perspiration, his muscles aching from the Leg Presses when he saw her little face peek in through the door. Her eyes were bright and red around the rims. It had been a rough session for her. She gave him a brave little wave and mouthed to him, "See you later." Then she disappeared.

After disentangling himself from the Nautilas machine, House ran after her. Looking for several minutes he finally saw her walking, head down, out the back door into the gardens. The door slammed open as he pushed forcefully through to get to her. He wasn't sure why it was so important for him to get to her, but he felt an overwhelming desire to hold her and keep her safe.

**Dear Hannah, I've posted on my other story too -Gal Friday (since you were complaining.)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

He watched her as she walked down the path, oblivious to everything. "Molly!"

Stopping, she turned and wiped her tears on her sleeve, then looked sweetly at him. He ran to her and grabbed her up in his arms.

"Greg, you're shaking! And where's your cane?"

The fact that he had practically run the whole distance without his cane and without pain shooting through his body hadn't occurred to him until now. He smiled to himself and then pulled her even closer. "I'm a pig. I know I'm a jerk, but I can't believe what I must have put you through. I really am sorry."

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her head on his chest, Molly could hear the pounding of his heart and smell the sweat from the workout. It was strong, but not pungent. It smelled like him and it always made her feel as if nothing in the world could get to her, especially the Mauler. She didn't understand this. There was nothing intimidating about House except his tongue and brain, nothing that could keep away a psychopath like the Mauler. But, in a way, she thought his brain would protect her, even if she needed brawn—Greg would figure it out.

Molly tried hard to maintain control, but as she leaned out to look into his eyes, she felt her eyes well up. "Greg. I think I'm falling in love with you. I don't want to scare you, but I thought you should know in case you want to run. I'd understand. I come with a lot of 'ifs' right now. I'm not exactly a prize catch."

The shaking stopped and a warm feeling swept through him. "I'm glad you told me. I had decided not to tell you again until I was sure you felt the same."

"Again?"

"I told you I love you when I came to visit you in isolation."

She grinned, "You did?"

"You fool. I could tell you anything about that night and you'd believe me."

Her grin fell, "Oh, so you didn't?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course I told you I love you. Jesus, can't you tell? I practically follow you around like a puppy dog."

"I honestly just thought you were amused by me or were just being nice."

"I don't do nice."

"Greg, I think you've convinced yourself that you're the atrocious man with no manners and morals when in fact, you have a deep moral code. Perhaps it's not everyone else's, but I find it refreshingly honest in its dishonesty."

"Huh?"

"You're not afraid to be blunt and you're not afraid to charm when you want something and you're not afraid to admit that you're a manipulator. Once someone knows you, then they only have themselves to be blame if they let you use them."

He walked over to a bench and sat down his eyes looking off into space. Molly sauntered over, puzzled. Sitting next to him she leaned over and grabbed his arm.

"What's wrong?"

He sat back on the bench and swallowed hard. "Everything you just said is true. But, Molly, I run over people, the weaker they are the quicker I pick them off."

"You think I'm weak?" Molly's eyebrows went up.

"Molly, you're so sweet, intrinsically good. I both love and loathe that about you. It's hard for me to believe that people can be 'good'. It becomes my mission to take them down."

Molly roared. "Greg, I'm not the little wallflower you think I am. I admit, I've been more affectionate and open with you, but before I came in here, I was considered a hard-ass, uptight, bitch."

He drew his head back in disbelief. "Sorry Molly, I see a kind, gentle, loving human when I look at you."

She squeezed his arm. "I'm glad you do. Because, I see a vulnerable, loving, hopeful boy inside of you."

"Me?"

"Greg, I think because of our experience in here we've been able to expose parts of ourselves that we don't show most people."

He threw his head back and rolled his eyes. "Ugh, that sounds so touchy feely."

Laughing, she grabbed his head and gave him a kiss; he turned into it and kissed her back with an emotion that was burning deep inside of him. When they pulled apart they lingered just a little, staring at each other.

"Molly, are we going to drift apart when we're out of here?"

"I hope not. Will you come back to see me?"

"Here? In here?" His voice was hesitant. House found the idea of coming back to Mayfield repugnant. Now that his leg was better and his mind clearer, he wanted _out!_

"I don't have a release date yet." She added.

He furrowed his brow and smirked. "It won't be long. You'll be out soon."

She said nothing, but she put on a brave smile.

House saw the pain behind the smile. "It can't be that long. Once you're out, you can stay with me."

"Once I'm out, I need to get my life back. Find a way to do my job or get another one."

"Well, you can do that from my place. It's a short drive to Trenton."

She pulled her feet up to the bench and unlatched herself from House. "Greg, I have a place to live—all paid for. It was my grandmother's, she left it to me."

"Okay, so I'll move in with you."

"My boyfriend might not approve." She looked away and picked at loose thread in her pants.

Time stopped completely. House couldn't stop staring at her.

"Greg, I wanted to tell you, but I knew it would be the end of us. Things haven't been good between Harlan and me. You've seen just how many times he's visited—none. I don't even know if he's still at the house. He came and saw me in the hospital a few times, sent me flowers, but when they told him that my vagina was screwed up and they had pieced me together, that it might not… well…he got weird. His visits were less frequent and less affectionate. Harlan was never very good with things that didn't work."

House let out a breath and shook his head. "Wow, I've been played."

"Oh God, no. Greg, I never meant…I was just a coward. In the beginning, I was so afraid if I told you about Harlan it would scare you off."

"Gee, the fact that you're living with someone shouldn't scare me off?"

She snickered, "I doubt that me being in a relationship would have scared _you_ off. When I realized that, I also knew that if I had vocalized it, it might have scared me off."

House thought about it and realized she was right—it wouldn't have made a difference. He was using the boyfriend as a front. He was uncomfortable about coming back to Mayfield to see her. Slowly, but surely, it was seeping in just how damaged she was or had to be after what she went through. He wouldn't be able to keep his tongue in his mouth. He'd probe for details, make rude or vulgar comments, watch her reaction to his words. Would she be able to survive him and his comments? If he broke it off now, he could always renew it when she got out, giving him a reason to avoid this place. "We've spent all this time in here and you forget to mention that you have a boyfriend? How convenient. You know I'm pissed because you didn't bother to tell me. You just don't trust me like I trust you."

"Greg? You are joking, right? You aren't really upset, are you?"

"Damn right I am." He stood up and turned around to look down, "I'm leaving here Monday. You figure out if this guy is still in your life. Once you do, give me a call." Walking off, he felt sick, as if he was sure that she could see through him. He didn't dare look back. He knew if he did he'd give in, he'd have to go back, deal with her damages as well as his own. Shaking his head, House realized what a fool he had been. They were right; it wasn't wise to start relationships in here. It was enough work to keep himself afloat, to take care of his needs. How was he supposed to take care of her too?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

They were having hot, sweaty sex in his room. She was smothering his mouth with hers. He could feel her breasts pushing up against his chest as he pounded into her like a piston in an engine. They were both hot and sweaty, grunting with each thrust. Molly dug into his back with her nails causing a cross between pain and pleasure that drove him harder, finally bringing them both to climax.

Opening his eyes, he looked down at the mess in the bed and winced. He took a breath and tried to replay the dream in his head. It was the same dream and the same mess the second night in a row. He didn't bother to worry about changing the sheets, he was going to be picked up in an hour and he still hadn't packed.

He was sick of the room; he'd spent the last forty-eight hours holed up in it avoiding Molly. She had done the same although neither knew the other wasn't roaming the halls. House packed his bags and at 9:45 am went up to get his discharge papers. He was pleased to find the corridors mostly empty and soon remembered that Monday from 9:30 to 11:00 am Molly had group therapy in the other building. The papers were read: he signed out, went back to his room, grabbed his bag and went out the front doors to wait outside for Wilson.

He was five minutes early to House's relief. Throwing his bag into the backseat, he climbed in and nodded a hello at Wilson. "What's hangin' bro?"

"How do you feel?" Wilson asked as he started the engine.

"Like Angelina Jolie in _Girl Interrupted_. I feel like I just broke out of the nut farm."

"You have your discharge papers, right?"

"Don't worry Clarise, I _are_ sane."

"I don't know. I think I see a little fava bean on your chin."

"Yeah, I ran out of Chianti to wash it down."

"Cuddy says you can have another week if you need it, but then she expects you back."

"Cuddy." He shook his head remembering the fantasy and hallucinations that had sent him into Mayfield the first time. "I remember the first time I was in she came and saw me once. It was half an hour of torture. What do you say to someone that you made love to in a hallucination? Was it good for you?"

Wilson chuckled.

House looked out the window and sighed. "I met someone."

No response.

House said sarcastically, "Gee House, I'm happy for you. What's her name, what's she like?"

Wilson was grim. "What about Cuddy? I thought you two were…getting along."

"We were. But, she expects me to be damaged. I need someone who expects me to be healed."

"What are you saying?"

"She expects me to screw up and I'll be happy to oblige, meet her expectations. I need someone to expect me _not _to screw up. Molly will hold my feet to the fire—like you, only with a little more force because she…" He looked around trying to think of what Molly did that made him want to behave. "I don't know."

"And you met her in Mayfield? Do they let you fraternize with the inmates?"

"They frowned, but we did a run around…we ran around and drove them nuts."

"What was she in for?"

House sighed. "Life…the way she's going."

Wilson grimaced and shook his head. "That bad? You fell for a woman that's going to be in a loony bin all her life? Why am I not shocked?"

"She might get out for time served and good--really good--behavior."

"Oh, so you slept with her. Was that why you needed the rubber?"

"I slept with her." His voice was noncommittal.

"But?"

"I didn't _sleep_ with her. I got a little action, but no internal combustion if you know what I mean."

"So, again I ask, what was she in for?"

"You remember the Trenton Mauler?"

Wilson looked over, "Yeah, he killed a few women, maimed that one and then went quiet. Did they catch him?"

"I don't know." House answered. "Anyway, she's the one he let live."

Wilson jerked his head around to stare at House in disbelief. _ "The Trenton police detective?"_

"Watch where you're going!" House said, pointing forward. "Yeah, Molly Collins."

Wilson wrinkled up his nose. "House, you know what he did to her?"

"Raped and stabbed her and left her in an abandoned lot."

Wilson shook his head, "Not just that. My friend, you know the one, Doug Ricco, was in emergency when she was brought in barely hanging on. What did she tell you?"

"She didn't. I read a few newspaper articles."

"This guy tortured her for thirty days, tying her up in a small room and raping her night and day. Occasionally he'd use a tool to do the raping, gouged her vagina. He stabbed her twice and once in the uterus. They brought in a plastic surgeon from California to do the work. They weren't sure if she'd heal without a lot of scar tissue. It's possible she's infertile and unable to have sex or have sex that works for her. I mean, I don't know for sure, but my friend was speculating."

House thought he'd throw up. He was revolted by the thought that anyone could do that to Molly, little Molly, his Molly. He wanted to drive back to Mayfield, but knew Wilson wouldn't turn around. When they got to House's apartment, Wilson helped him with his luggage and then stayed for a quick beer. House was waiting for him to leave. As soon as Wilson was out the door, House pulled out the hard stuff, knocked back a few and spent the rest of the day lost in TIVO.

He made it through to Thursday afternoon and then broke down. He kept having dreams--dreams of them having sex, dreams of them holding each other, dreams of her pushing him away, dreams of him losing her forever. Something inside told him that his new plan wasn't going to work with her. She wasn't going to be manipulated into a relationship after she got out.

House pulled out a card from his wallet and picked up the phone and began dialing the number on it.

"Mayfield Psychiatric Facility. How can I help you?" The female receptionist asked without any emotion.

"Molly Collins."

"Patient or Staff?"

"Patient."

There was a pause. "Sorry, but I don't have a number for her."

"She was there Monday morning!"

"That was Monday morning sir. I don't have a phone number for her now."

"Then get me Dr. Christy."

"Yes, sir. Putting you through."

"Dr. Christy's office." House recognized her assistant's voice.

"Put me through to Dr. Christy."

"Dr. Christy is in session. I can take a –"

"This is an emergency; tell her Dr. James Wilson is calling from Princeton Plainsboro."

"Just a moment please."

There was a pause.

"Dr. Christy."

"Where the hell is Molly?" House yelled into the receiver.

"_House?"_

"No, it's Sigmund Freud back from the dead and I'm pissed. Now where's Molly?"

"Well, that's rich considering that you told her you loved her and then ditched her. She gone, Dr. House."

"Gone?"

"As in no longer here."

"Where did she go?"

"I can't share that with you." There was a click.

House dialed back, but Christy refused to take the call.

He called several times, trying to get orderlies that he knew worked at the hospital to answer, but no one was biting. House threw the phone across the living room where it smashed against the wall, parts flying everywhere.

Showering, he dressed and grabbed his keys to his motorcycle. At first it wouldn't kick over, but after several minutes of cussing and then an offer of peace to the motorcycle God, he heard the roar of the engine, gunning it as he took off down the road. He was at Mayfield an hour later demanding to see Christy, but she wouldn't come to the front desk and he was physically refused entrance to the rest of the building by several bulky guards.

House refused to leave, sitting in the lobby, waiting for Christy to appear. He found it ironic that he was sitting back in the lobby of Mayfield so quickly after his exit. Every orderly, nurse and staff that House recognized was grilled when they exited through the lobby to the parking lot. The only thing that he was able to garner was that on Tuesday she was gone and Christy was pissed about it. Finally at 6:00 pm Christy had to go through the lobby to sign out for the night. She shook her head when she saw House sitting in the lobby watching her sign the register.

"Who will rid me of this turbulent priest!" She cried out theatrically.

House shrugged and walked with her as they made their way across the parking lot.

"Dr. House, I can't tell you anything, so this is a complete waste."

House pulled on her arm to stop her. "Just tell me-- is she is alright."

"House." She said with sympathy. Swallowing, Christy looked around. "You might try her brother, Walter Collins, in Eldridge Park."

"You're pissed about her. Something happened that wasn't in your control and now you're pissed." House studied her, hoping she'd say something, but she didn't.

She gave him a curt laugh and opened the door to her Honda Accord. After a Queen's wave from Christy, he watched as she drove out of the parking lot.

House went home and spent some time Googling Walter Collins, finally finding a phone number and an address for him. Dialing the number, he was surprised when a small girl's voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is Walter Collins there?"

"My Daddy is outside mowing the lawn."

"Could you go get him—no wait! Is your Aunt Molly there?"

"No. She's in the hospital."

"Well, not now, she's not in the hospital now."

"I visited her in the hospital with my Daddy this morning."

"You did?"

"She had needles in her arms."

House hung up and began to make phone calls to the various hospitals near Mayfield and Eldridge Park. He finally found her at St. Francis Medical Center in Trenton. By noon, House was walking into the medical center, asking for her room, inferring he was one of her personal physicians.

Storming the nurses desk, House asked to see her chart, showing his identification from PPTH. The nurse handed the file to him and went on her way. House went over to a chair and sat down to read through. When he was done, he went into her room and immediately saw the bandages on her wrist.

The monitors all droned on with a steady chirp. She was asleep, probably due to the painkillers. He took a seat next to her bed and leaned forward on his knees to think through what he should do. Half an hour after he arrived she began to stir. Her eyes were turned to the window, away from him, so he cleared his throat.

Molly turned and saw his face, the blue eyes smiling kindly at her. "Greg? What are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to see me?"

"Seems I'm an idiot and had trouble getting my head out of my butt." He glanced over at her bandages. "Looks like you're in the wrong place at the wrong time again."

She held up her bandaged wrist. "Well, seems not all sharp objects were removed from Mayfield."

"I'm completely baffled. Crazy Freddie went after Schizo Tom? And you just happened to get between them?"

She coughed slightly to clear the congestion in her voice. "I'm a cop. He had a knife and he was going hog wild. Poor Tom already had three stab wounds went I jumped in."

"Let me see where he got you in the chest." House walked up to the bed and looked down at her hospital gown, the kind that opened in the front. He gently peeled back part of the flap and saw the bloodied bandage. "It says in your chart that your lung collapsed and now you have pneumonia."

"I did have pneumonia, but I'm better."

"They'll probably release you in a day. I'll come and pick you up when they do. Give me your house key and I'll pack you a bag."

She raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Bag? Where do you think I'm going?"

"You're coming home with me. I need someone to clean the house and cook for me."

She snorted, then laughed at him. He gave her a big grin back.

House sat on her bed, "I screwed up as usual. I didn't want to go back to Mayfield so I—well you know what I did. I don't care if Harlequin is still living at your house. You're coming home with me."

"Harlan. And he came to the hospital yesterday. He wants to try and make it work."

House froze then looked out the window, making sure that she didn't see the fear in him. "And what did you say?"

"I said that I wanted him out of the house by the end of the month."

House started to breathe again. "Good. You'll enjoy Princeton--great restaurants, jazz clubs, entertainment. We'll have a good time."

"Oh, no! I'm not going with you either. You dumped me for no good—"

"Hey, I just spent two days hunting you down to tell you I made a mistake. I'm here and I want you, crappy vagina and all."

She blushed deep red. "I don't know if it's a crappy vagina or not."

"I'm willing to take it on. If it's crappy, we'll have really good oral sex. I'm not concerned." He took a deep breath. "Molly, you know you love me. So, let's just give it a week together. Move in for a week. If you have to use your revolved by the end of it, then we'll know it didn't work out."

Molly felt overwhelmed. She had spent every night for the last week crying over him and here he was, telling her that he wanted another chance. She wasn't sure what she should do.

House could tell she was on the precipice. "Molly, one week won't kill you. What? Do you need to hear me say it?"

Molly nodded.

"I love you. Now, I'll pick you up when they let you out."

"What if I decide to go back to Mayfield?"

He gave her a one sided smile, "But you won't. Christy is all pissed and that means you told her that you weren't going back."

"Well, Sherlock, once again you're right."

"Of course."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Do you want to take your vagina for a test drive now?"

Molly looked around in the hall to see if there was anyone else, but there wasn't. "Can I at least get inside first?"

"Okay. If you must." House opened the door to his apartment.

Molly stepped inside, looked around and then walked over to the couch to sit down. "Mind if I sit, I feel a little tired."

"Sure. But, you don't have to ask. This is your home too…for a week. Now, about that trial run?"

"Greg, I just said I'm a little tired. I lost a lot of blood and my lung still isn't clear. Can we have a 'get to know my environment' day before we start the experimentation?"

He sat down on the couch at the other end and put his leg up. Leaning forward he pulled her in between his legs and up onto his chest where he cradled her in his arms. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you. I'm glad you came to the hospital. If you hadn't I might have taken Harlan back. He came by again and did some really heavy begging."

House kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, when I went over to get some things for you, he wasn't too happy--kept telling me to get the hell out. I didn't spend too long in there, I remembered that you had guns."

Molly laughed, "And Harlan is a police sniper."

"Crap! You could have told me that before I went over!"

"Never crossed my mind. He's a decent guy. He wouldn't go psycho on you."

House wasn't really listening; he was just relishing the feel of her lying on his chest, the smell of her herbal shampoo and the knowledge that she was really there, _with him. _The whole scenehad his heart in overdrive and for once he felt a genuine smile of happiness cross his lips.

"Molly, stay with me. Stay for good."

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Let's take it one week at a time."

"Don't you want this?"

"More than you do."

He chuckled, "I doubt that."

"I don't. You know there's always someone in a relationship that loves the other person more."

He raised up on his elbows to look at her. "Yeah, well, I'm that one."

Molly rolled her eyes. "You're the one willing to walk away the other day."

"Yeah, and I ran back with my tail between my legs because I knew I needed you."

There was a knock on the door. Molly sat up and House managed to untangle himself from her. "Probably a Jehovah Witness."

House opened the door and made a face.

"I just thought I'd come over and see how you were doing and to ask whether you were coming back to work on Monday?" Lisa Cuddy stepped in wearing a low-cut blouse under her silk short cropped Navy suit with red high heels. She gave Molly the once over and then looked back at House.

House frowned, "Lisa Cuddy, my boss, this is Molly Collins. Molly is living with me now."

Cuddy was clearly surprised and hurt. She swallowed hard, gave Molly a polite smile and turned back to House. "Well, congratulations. Are you back on Monday?"

"Yep."

"Fine. I'll get going then. Stop by my office on Monday to fill out the forms for your return." She fiddled a little, clearly wanting to say something privately to House.

Molly stood up. "Greg, I need to use the restroom, where is it?"

House pointed, "End of the hall."

Molly politely left the room and closed the door to the bathroom.

"Living with her?" Lisa said, her eyes narrowed. "Where did you meet her?"

"The insane asylum."

"_What? You met her in Mayfield? Are you crazy?"_

"Not anymore…or at least according to my shrink." House knew what was really bothering her. "Look, I'm attracted to you--always have been, probably always will be—but we were never going to make it. We both have this idea of what the other is like or what the other will do. If I hooked up with you there'd be no reason to change, you'd chalk up anything I do to me being me. And I'd know I could torture you as much as I wanted because, for some reason, you'd let me. Find someone who won't make you feel as worthless as I do."

She said nothing, but he could see the tears starting to well up.

"Ah crap, don't cry. You know I'm right."

She wiped her tears. "That's why I'm crying."

House stepped forward, and to her surprise, he hugged her. "Lisa, you've got nice breasts and lots of booty, some men really like that. Go forth and bootify. You'll find someone."

She snickered, pulled away, nodding reassuringly. "I'll be okay. I've got Rachel."

House saw Cuddy to the door and then went back to the bathroom. "You can come out now."

Molly opened the door and looked out behind him down the hall. She leaned on the door, "Why didn't you tell me you have a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, "I don't. We had a flirtation, it's over. Although she's probably going to have a hard time getting me out of her system. I'm like plaque…I stay there until you rotor router me out of your arteries."

Molly rolled her eyes and stepped out of the bathroom. "She has feelings for you."

"It'll pass."

Molly slipped her arms around his waist and put her head on his chest. "I'm hungry."

"Well, if we just tried out your plumbing first, you'd work up a real appetite." He put a long, warm arm around her shoulders and guided her into the kitchen, pointing up to the cupboards.

"No, I want to eat…maybe soup?"

"Surprisingly, I have soup here." He opened the cabinet door to reveal two full shelves of soup cans. He kissed her ear and then made a grand gesture to the cupboards. "What's your poison?"

"Tomato? Cream of Mushroom?"

He looked through the cans, but couldn't find tomato or mushroom soup. "Ah, how about chilli? I've got a can of that."

"Beans for our first night together?" They both laughed. Molly shrugged, "I'm game if you're game."

He wiggled his eyebrows and pinched her on the butt. "Pay attention. This is where the plates are…here's the silverware, condiments…over here are the soups. The peanut butter is in the frig along with the beer. Make me out a list and I'll get you whatever you want at the grocery store tomorrow."

She wrinkled her brow. "I don't think so. You need to take me to the store with you. Your idea of stocking the frig tends to mean four different kinds of beer. Your kitchen is obviously in need of some real nutrition."

"Well, here's the chilli and over in that cupboard is the box of crackers."

Molly opened the door and got out the crackers while House heated the chilli in the microwave. They sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen and ate from their bowls. House finished and looked around.

"I'm still hungry. Want a peanut butter sandwich?"

"No. I'm okay, but I think I'll go take a nap. Mind if I use the bed?"

"Mi bed es su bed."

Sighing she corrected him, "Mi cama es su cama."

"Yeah, that too."

She went over to the bags they had brought in and scrounged around for her toiletry bag.

"What are you looking for?" He asked.

"My toothbrush."

"There's a new one in the linen closet in my bathroom."

"Oh, okay." Molly went back, brushed her teeth and then wandered into the bedroom where she surveyed her surroundings. Things were messy, but there had obviously been a valiant attempt to make the bed. When she pulled the duvet back, she realized that there were clean sheets on the bed. She had secretly hoped that the sheets would smell of him and make it easier for her to sleep, but then she also appreciated the fact that he had changed the sheets just for her. Molly wondered if there had been a need to change the sheets. Had there been a woman over the night before? She doubted it. She honestly believed that House was in love with her and this was his way of showing it.

He came to the door and watched as she took off her shoes, socks and jeans, crawling under the sheet after she was done.

"Nice sheets. Nice and cool against my legs. Do you want to join me? Take a nap?" She gave him a sweet, come hither look.

House kicked his shoes off, undid his buckle and took off his jeans and t-shirt. He crawled in behind her and put his arm over her body as she spooned into him, pushing her butt into his groin.

He backed up slightly away from her. "You do that and we're going to be trying out your plumbing in a few minutes."

The feel of his arm around her triggered a deep relaxation and almost immediate sleep. As he pulled back, she simply followed until his groin molded around her hips and cheeks again. She didn't notice the bulge as she drifted into a deep, restful, sleep. When she woke, she was still spooning him, but he was asleep now. The feel of the hair on his thigh and groin next to the smoothness of her ass was erotic. She looked over her shoulder at his face. The deep lines, light brown eyelashes, and wide, cupid's lips were highlighted by the rough cover of his beard. Studying it, she noted that it consisted of a mixture of dark gray, white gray and some brown, although the brown was losing the battle to the gray. She remembered when she first met him; he had shaved his head, giving him a rougher look around the edges. Still, she thought he was handsome and in better shape than ever after three months of therapy.

Sitting up, she thought for sure that he would wake up from the movement, but he didn't. As she studied him, Molly felt a strange mixture of being safe with the apprehension that this might not last. She wanted it to last. She wanted him to be the one to bring her back from the blackness of the hole she had lived in for the last six months. Molly wanted to live, not just exist. Greg House made you examine your life, your surroundings, your motives. He had done more to make her come out of her hell than her shrinks. She reached out and touched a strand of his hair.

House opened his eyes and followed the lump in the sheets up to her shoulders and then her face. "Did you sleep at all?"

Nodding, she continued to play with his hair. "You're losing your hair."

He grimaced, "And you're losing your appeal."

She giggled. "You know, I think I'd like to take the old girl out for a spin."

He put his hand on her knee as an act of comfort. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. But, we'll need a lot of lubrication, I have a feeling I might be too nervous to make much of my own."

"Let's set the stage…" He got up, grabbed a tube of KY Jelly from his bathroom, lit a single candle and turned on the CD player, a Barry White song started up. He grabbed the t-shirt from the floor and used it to wipe under his arms.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Wow, this is so romantic. It's the candle…makes the entire mood for the room." Actually the candle could hardly be seen because the bedside lamp was on.

"I knew if anyone appreciated my moves you would."

"Thank God I like your body smell or that little t-shirt action would have turned me off."

He crawled back on the bed and lay down on his side. Pulling her down from where she was sitting, he ran his fingers through her short hair and around the outside of her ear. He had to smile. She had closed her eyes to let the sensations of his fingers running along her skin sink inside. Scooting closer, he put his nose to hers then kissed her lips softly. His hand continued down over her shoulder to the hem of her t-shirt where he slipped his fingers along the edge of the hem and over the protrusion of her hip bone just above her bikini briefs.

She giggled, "It tickles."

He loved when she giggled, it sounded so girly. He kissed her lightly again. Sliding his hand under the t-shirt, he slipped his warm fingers up under the shirt along her hot, smooth skin. The curves and feel of her body caused things to stir in his crotch.

Molly could barely stand it. The smell of the cherry-apple candle mixed with his unmistakable smell, the sound of the music, the delicate touch of his fingers, his uneven breath…it was causing her entire body to quiver and her groin to ache to be filled.

House touched her just below her breasts as his head bent down and he put his mouth up to the t-shirt covering her breast. He licked the tip of her nipple which protruded slightly through the cotton of her t-shirt. Molly pressed her lips to the crown of his head and moaned.

"Greg, that feels so good."

He wanted to tell her that it felt good to him too, but that would mean taking his tongue off her nipple and he didn't want to do that. Pushing her t-shirt up, House took her breast in his hand and started to lick and suck the plump orb. He continued to lick down the middle of her abdomen until he reached the happy face bikini panties. A part of his brain wanted to make a comment on the irony of happy face bikinis on a psych patient, but that would break their concentration and he knew he had to do this just right to ease her fears.

The t-shirt was pulled over her head as delicately as his fingers and his restraint would allow him. Free from the shirt, he watched as her round breasts bounced back into place. They were beautiful. The breasts weren't large, but they certainly weren't small. He couldn't resist anymore—he dove into her cleavage, rubbing his nose back and forth, bouncing her breasts in different directions.

"Greg?" She was amused by his sudden playfulness.

"Sorry, couldn't resist. They're just so perky."

"So I've been told."

He snapped his neck to look up at her. "By whom?"

"By just about every guy I've…can we concentrate on touching, sucking and licking?"

He grinned and quickly slipped his hand into her panties, running his fingers through the curly hair and down to her slit. As he continued, he determined that she was moist, not wet, but definitely getting there. He wanted to take matters into his own hand, bury his head between her legs and hurry the process up, but he knew that what she didn't need was any fast, unanticipated moves, so he continued to encircle and play between her legs with his fingers.

Molly could hardly catch her breath, the pleasurable sensations were starting to build quickly, but she was also having trouble keeping her past from intruding. She was trying desperately to keep her mind here in bed with Greg and not allow it to wonder back to that month of hell. It was hard; flashes of _his_ face were piercing through her concentration on House's touch. Molly looked down at House as he continued to rub her and suck on her breasts. The feel of his face, the rough beard burning slightly, brought her back again. The feelings were undeniably pleasant. He certainly knew how to send the right signals. Her body was tingling all over and the blood was rushing to all the right place. Everything between her legs were aching for him.

"Greg, what do you like?"

"Mija, just let me take care of you for now. Believe me, I'm enjoying this immensely."

"You speak Spanish?"

"And five other languages. Now how do you like this?" His fingers finally ran the groove of her slit and then slid slowly inside of her. He had to admit he was curious about whether she felt different inside. House's fingers probed more than they rubbed, like the moves of a clinician rather than a lover. Molly noticed the difference in his rhythm and his touch, causing her to freeze and tense up. Feeling the tension in her body, House pulled back a little.

"Well doctor?" Molly said sarcastically. "Have you finished the exam?"

She had caught him. "Molly, I just wanted to make sure it would be comfortable for you. Whoever did your surgery; did a great job."

Nodding, she looked up at the ceiling. House could feel the moment slipping away. He reached up and kissed her, not with passion, but with a deep, deep love. Molly responded easily, reaching around him and pulling him into her body. When the kiss ended, House slid his hand over her belly and between the warm bulge of her thighs. Rubbing again, this time Molly concentrated on the kiss and how much feeling he had put into it. The sensations multiplied and she soon found herself rubbing against his hand. Slipping his fingers inside, this time he kept up the rhythm and made sure she was being pleasured.

Molly grabbed onto his shoulders as the congestion in her groin increased. "Greg, I want you to try."

"Try?"

She chuckled, "Try to make love to me, please."

"You mean—" He could feel a welcomed response in his groin to just the suggestion. "You want me to enter you?"

"Yes. Now, I want you inside me."

House thought about straddling her, mission style, but quickly decided that being on top of her would remind her too much of what had happened. He rolled on his back and then grabbed his erection. "Hop on. I want to see those perky breasts bounce when I screw you."

Molly straddled House and, as he held his erection and aimed in between her legs, she lowered herself down onto his shaft. There had been no need for KY Jelly. Molly's body had responded with enough lubrication to make them both comfortable.

She could feel some edges where there hadn't been any, but it wasn't unpleasant, just strange. Leaning forward she was able to rub herself against his shaft each time he entered her, sending a tingling that flashed up from her womb. Feeling her orgasm swelling, her mouth dropped open and her breath grew shallow. She could see House, his concentration was on where they were joined, the view of him penetrating her. He had his hands on her waist and was lifting and pushing her up and down on his shaft over and over. When her body responded with contractions in her vagina, House looked up into her eyes, his mouth opened wide.

She screamed, "Yes, yes. Oh my God, Greg! More, more, harder."

He slammed up into her as his own climax grabbed his balls, the sensation of ejaculating into her hit his head like a pleasant ice cream headache, causing him to go blind. He screamed out and bucked up several times. As the orgasm died, he grabbed around her back and pulled her down to him.

Between his deep breaths, he managed to get out. "I think it's functional."

She howled with laughter. "Oh yeah, I'd have to say we have lift-off."

"Molly, I'm so proud to be your inaugural run."

"Thank you, sweetie. I'm glad you could join me on the ride."

They stayed locked together for a few minutes and then Molly rolled off and started to cry.

House turned on his side, "Molly?"

"It's not bad…I'm just so relieved, so happy. You're off drugs and your leg is better. My vagina is a little odd, but still works. I managed to get through sex without freaking out. I'm forging a relationship with a man who is half nuts himself and I just feel like I'm alive again."

"I admit; I haven't felt this hopeful in a long, long time. But, do me a favor."

"What?"

"Don't tell Wilson, he likes to rescue me. He'd probably kill himself if he knew I didn't need to be rescued from myself anymore."

Molly laughed and put a hand on his cheek. "I don't know where this is going, but I'm glad I'm going with you."

I think we should go to the bathroom and have a really long shower where I wash your breasts and soap up your ass."

"That sounds good."

As they made their way into the bathroom, Molly barely heard the television in the living room. "You forgot to turn the television off." Molly said as she monitored the temperature of the water.

"Ignore it." He said.

Nodding she climbed into the warm shower.

"…_Trenton Police Chief Edwards confirmed that tonight's homicide in Plainsboro was probably the work of the Trenton Mauler, who has now killed four women and left another for dead. The police have…"_

The End.

**Dear Readers, I hope you enjoyed this...I know, you wonder about the Trenton Mauler, but right now I have not written a sequel. I'm still writing Gal Friday. I wanted you to still have questions, but most of all, I hope I made the romance between these two damaged people believable. Thank you!**


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